Deadly Secret
by Lamae
Summary: SmallvillexSupernatural After doing a ghostly gig in a small town's high school, the Winchesters find themselves faced with new, female-sized problems.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm so nervous about this story. This story is meant to be a sequel to Deadly Betrayal but you don't need to read it to understand what's going on. I just really want to do a Supernatural story with Jason in it (because he's sexy! –ducks flying tomatoes--). For people who have read my work they know that I like to throw in a few serious themes every now and then like violence (duh), rape (I consider it as a twisted form of fanservice), swearing (because we all do it) and nudity (now THERE'S the fanservice). I'm sorry if some of the themes offend people. I do try to give some warnings before chapters and mark off any intense scenes. But do be warned this story WILL have VERY strong themes. **

**Oh, and on another note I do realize one of the character's names is Lamae in this story. This name just also happens to be my penname. Rest assured I have not written myself into the story. If I had, Jason would never leave my side, never wear clothes and I'd be constantly bribing the Winchester brothers to strip naked. We all know that first chapters are long, boring and frustratingly explanatory. I promise I'll give you naked Winchesters and Jason (not slash though. If you want slash I suggest you go to the M-rated section. Crazy, fun stories there) if you stick around. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville. That also means I'm bound to stuff up a bit of the Smallville fanbase knowledge. I don't own Supernatural either, but if I ever do find Sam and Dean Winchester I place dibs on them here and now. I do own Beclyn and Lamae. I don't mind if you use them in your stories though.  
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**Warning: contains violence and supernatural themes (one can only hope). **

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 1**

_Hell shall rise to take control,_

_Once the Child of the Devil's blood stands forth to start the war,_

_Mars the land with the corpses of a thousand demons,_

_No soul, nor life, nor conscience to bear the deaths,_

_The Devil will fall, forever lay._

_**The Chosen.**_

- - -

_Smallville_

"…and so if we extend on the Pythagoras theorem to include this angle and incorporate this side we can…" Ms Hardy drawled on, reading straight from the maths textbook. Students' heads dropped closer to their desks, or turned towards the wide open windows. The sound of birds chirping and footballers calling from the oval filtered into the room; it wasn't surprising that many of the students wanted to spend the day somewhere other than the classroom. Especially Lamae Makra.

Maths had never been Lamae's favourite subject. There was something about numbers that just didn't appeal to her. She knew she should be paying attention, considering maths was her one of her worst subjects, but drawing love-hearts around a particular name in her notepad was much more worthwhile.

"… and adding these angles together will give you the answer for question one," Ms Hardy concluded as a shrill bell rang out across the school, signalling the end of class. Students stood immediately, rushing to collect their belongings and scamper from the room. "Remember you've got pages 144, 172 and 186 for homework!" Ms Hardy yelled over the clamour.

Lamae remained seated as the other students rushed through the door. She was used to being first in and last out of a classroom. Sighing, she began piling books into her arms. She didn't notice the teacher approaching behind her.

"Oh, that's cute," Ms Hardy said, nodding towards the open notebook as she walked past. "Those love-hearts are well-drawn. What does the word in the middle say?"

Freezing, Lamae blushed and forced a smile. She wasn't going to say the word said 'Jason,' or that she had been drawing for the duration of the class. People had been given detention for less.

"It's nothing really," Lamae shyly explained, closing the notebook and adding it to the pile in her arms.

"What language is it?" the teacher pressed.

Glancing away, Lamae said, "It's just something I picked up back at my old school…"

"Ah," Ms Hardy muttered. Glancing at her watch, she said, "Alright then, dear. I'll see you tomorrow. Remember your homework!"

Nodding, Lamae watched as the maths teacher left the room. She waited until she heard the footsteps receding down the hall before reprimanding herself. She shouldn't have written the name – especially in _that _language. She had promised herself she would forget her old school and its past. All she needed was to drag up memories of what had happened there…what better way to depress herself?

Sighing softly, she hefted the pile of books and made her way into the hall. Her peers were still bustling about, chatting about parties, football matches and the colour of the new shoes they bought on the weekend. Excusing herself as she pushed past them, she opened her locker and neatly placed her books inside.

"Hey, Lamae," a voice greeted her from behind.

Lamae didn't have to turn to recognise the familiar voice, but did so anyway to be polite. "Hey, Clark," she said with a grin as she pulled out her backpack. "How was your date with Lana on Saturday?"

Shrugging, Clark smiled sheepishly. "We had dinner at my house. I barely call that a date."

Lamae pulled on her backpack. "Did she like the flowers you got her?"

A grin widened Clark's lips. "She told me she loved them."

Clark and Lana had been going out for longer than Lamae could remember. Despite herself, the happy couple sometimes made Lamae feel a little twinge of jealousy. It never lasted though. More often than not it was Lana and Clark who reminded her how happy in love she was, especially since they were the only two who knew about it.

"Incoming," Clark's tone suddenly turned serious.

It wasn't like Lamae needed to be warned. She could hear the giggling and loud voices of the cheerleading squad from a mile away. She hid her face behind her locker door as the voices came closer. The voices lowered to whispers a moment before Lamae felt the locker door slam against her head.

"_Oops, sorry_…" Gemma Colsa said with a smirk, her voice dripping sarcasm as her fellow squad members giggled and squealed in delight. "I didn't see you standing there, Makra."

Lamae waited until she couldn't hear their footsteps before muttering, "I wish they would stop doing that."

"You just have to ignore them," Clark told her, watching as she shut the locker before falling into step beside her. "They'll stop doing it once they realise they can't get a reaction."

"Lamae!" a voice suddenly called out from behind the two of them.

Clark closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as Lamae turned around.

Lois Lane was pushing people out of her path, her face red in fury. Storming up to Lamae, she demanded, "What did you get on your English essay?"

Lamae blinked.

"Don't tell me – I bet you got an A, right? You always get As," Lois said, rolling her eyes. "Well, guess what? Almost everyone got an A for this essay – everyone but _me_ that is." Thrusting a crinkled paper into Lamae's hands, Lois snarled, "What does that teacher have against me? How could I possibly have screwed up that much to get a D?"

Clark tilted his head, reading as he took the paper from Lamae. "I thought the paper was about Global Warming and the effects on America. Here you've written, '_Global Warming is bad because the polar bears in Antarctica will have nowhere to live_.'" Glancing at Lois, he said, "Firstly, Antarctica isn't in America, and secondly, polar bears live in the Arctic."

Snatching the paper back with a scowl, Lois hissed, "Why don't you keep your knowledge within the boundaries of shifting hay, Farmboy?"

Clark raised an eyebrow. "You asked why you failed."

Lamae stood aside as they glared daggers at each other. "Guys, I would love to stay and chat, but Chloe wanted me to get the last game's scores from Coach Quigley."

"What, again?" Lois cried out disbelievingly, snapping her attention away from Clark. "I swear every time I turn around you're either going to or just coming back from the sports department."

"Come on, leave her alone, Lois," Clark playfully teased. "You should be thankful you're not the one your cousin is sending down there instead."

Lamae ducked down a hall before she could hear the end of the conversation. Lois and Clark almost never got along. It was kind of cute in an anime-like way, but she was too afraid to point it out. In fact, the only topic Lois and Clark ever agreed on was how much they hated each other.

Digging into her backpack, she pulled out the sports folder Chloe had lent her. It always amazed her how Chloe managed to fit the newsletter's busy schedule around her demanding class timetable. Without Chloe, the Torch would never have seen the light of day.

Lamae had to step aside as two lively footballers ran past. It was barely a quarter past three and Smallville High's halls were practically empty. Approaching the staffroom door, she looked both ways before tidying her skirt, trying to press a few of the wrinkles from the fabric. She'd have to change fabric softeners.

Tucking a long strand of golden-brown hair behind her ear, Lamae knocked on the door.

"Come on in," a familiar voice called.

Biting her lip, she turned the doorhandle and pushed open the door. She felt her heart rate pick up as she noticed Jason Teague sitting behind a cramped, overloaded desk. He looked just as stunning as he always did with his light-brown hair, gorgeous hazel eyes and amazingly pink lips.

"Hi," Lamae offered softly, gently closing the door.

Jason looked up immediately, putting down the pen he was using to mark papers. "Miss Makra," he said with a smile, "what can I do for you?"

Blushing, Lamae fidgeted her feet. "Chloe just wanted me to get the game scores from Coach Quigley…"

Jason's smile fell slightly. "Oh, you just missed him," he said, standing. He turned, glancing through the shelves behind the desk. He tugged a piece of paper from between a stack of books before turning back to her. "I think these are the game scores. He told me to give them to you if you dropped by." He leant against the desk, holding the paper out at arm's length for her.

"Thanks," she said, reaching out for the paper. As her fingers brushed the edge, his hand snapped out and enclosed around her elbow. Before she could protest, he had pulled her tight against his chest.

"Jason!" she shrieked, trying to push away.

Jason smirked, hugging her closer. "What?" he murmured in her ear, kissing her cheek softly. "Can't I hug my girlfriend?"

"We both agreed that between nine and three o'clock, Monday to Friday, I am a student and you are a teacher," she protested.

He faltered. "You're right."

Lamae nodded, blushing furiously.

A cheeky grin suddenly flashed across his face. "But it's three-twenty."

As he traced a row of kisses around her temple, Lamae whispered, "What if someone walks in on us? You could lose your job."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "That's not what you said last week when we were in here making out. Besides, Coach Quigley is on the oval for the next two hours." Just as Jason was about to wrap his hand in Lamae's long hair, she ducked underneath his arms and took a few steps back.

"I thought you were doing the football training today," she pointed out.

"I am," Jason said, shrugging. His eyes twinkled mischievously. "He's only starting them off, and no one's going to miss me until I'm fifteen minutes late…"

"I've got to get home and make dinner," Lamae objected lightly, placing the paper in the folder. "I'm thinking we could have steak and chips tonight."

"Sounds delicious," Jason said enthusiastically. "I'll make sure I'm home early."

As Lamae left, she pretended she didn't see the flirtatious wink he threw at her. Her glowing blush said otherwise.

Rushing down the hall, she grinned to herself as she went over the steak and chips recipe in her head. She knew Jason loved smoky ranch sauce. She could add that to the marinade with a few garlic cloves, herbs and…

Lamae cried out as something collided into her. Papers went flying as she fell to the ground.

"I'm sorry!" she cried out, quickly climbing to her feet. "I wasn't paying attention. It's completely my fault! I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay, Lamae, you were just the person I was looking for," the body she smacked into told her.

Lamae felt her face redden. "Oh, sorry, Chloe." Fishing out the piece of paper from the folder, she handed it to Chloe before bending down to pick up the stray papers. "I'm sorry I made you drop…"

"It's just fine," Chloe excused, brushing off the apology with a waving gesture. "I was coming to see you anyway."

Lamae stood. "You were?"

Chloe's face brightened, her professionalism falling into place as her eyes burned with excitement. "I just got a big scoop on that case with the hospitalised student. Word around school is that he saw who attacked him before he passed out in the gym. I think that if I go and talk to him then he'll let me in on a bit of info…" Brushing herself off, she beamed at Lamae. "Which means I've got a job for you."

Lamae's face fell. "Oh, Chloe, you know I'd love to go to the hospital with you, but I've got so much homework tonight, I've got to cook dinner, and…"

Chloe let out a laugh and shook her head. "Oh, no, I wasn't thinking that, silly! I just need you to photocopy all these pages and have them on my desk by seven tonight."

"All of them?" Lamae glanced down at the hundreds of papers scattered over the floor. "I don't know if I can…"

"Okay, so I'll leave this to you while I go interview the guy," Chloe said, ignoring her as she cheerfully bounced away.

Lamae sighed, feeling her shoulders droop. Why did she even bother joining the newspaper committee in the first place?

At least one thing was for certain - she would rather have done the interview.

- - -

Like most schools, the photocopying resources at Smallville High were aged and difficult to use. There were two outcomes when using the photocopier. Either it worked and the documents printed clearly, or it was onto the phone with the IT guy while trying to stop the paper tray from spewing out its contents. Lamae was quite sure she had missed the cue to ring the IT guy at least half an hour before the machine had made a sick whirring sound and spat a waterfall of white from the wrong slot.

Cursing, Lamae tried to stop the cascade of paper with her hands, earning herself several dozen paper-cuts.

"Come on, please stop," Lamae begged the machine, continuously jabbing at the 'off' button. She didn't know whether to be thankful or horrified as the photocopier let out a loud groan of protest before switching off with several warning sparks.

Sighing in defeat, Lamae picked up her bag and made her way out into the hall. It was nearing five o'clock and the gloomy necessity of homework was beginning to itch at her. Turning up another hallway, she felt a cold fear settle in her stomach. It was getting dark and even the footballers were close to finishing their training. If she didn't finish copying the files then Chloe would be behind in her work, but she didn't want to be alone at the school after dark. Almost every student knew of the rumours concerning Smallville High. Only last week a boy had been attacked and knocked unconscious after school hours. If a two-hundred pound footballer was no match for an attacker, then what hope did Lamae have?

As she ventured further through the halls, Lamae felt the desolation of the school gnaw at her. She reminded herself that she needed to find someone to help her with the photocopier. Her footsteps echoed off the walls, making her feel all the more isolated. She pulled her backpack closer to her body. Stopping, she let out a sigh, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She would call Chloe, beg for forgiveness for not finishing the papers, and then…

Something stirred at the end of the hallway. Lamae's eyes widened, her breath hitching in her throat.

"Hello?" she called down the hall. "Is someone there?"

Nothing moved.

"I just need help with the photocopier," she continued, taking a step. "I think I've done something to it and it's not…"

Lamae let out a loud shriek as the lights in the hall suddenly went out. Her heart pumped in her chest. She reached out, trying to feel her way around in the darkness.

"Turn the lights back on, please!" Lamae cried out, her hands fumbling against the wall. "I'm still here! Turn the lights back on!"

Something on the other side of the hall let out a choking sound. Lamae paused, feeling tears well in her eyes. "Is someone there?" she whispered.

Her ears pricked as she heard something scraping along the floor. It was as if something fleshy was squelching across the laminated surface, like a wet mop hitting tiles. Lamae took a few steps back. Suddenly, the lights flickered for a second. Lamae's eyes bulged.

She had seen something coming in the middle of the hall, only a few feet away. It was something on all fours, its head covered in a black, tangled mess of hair. It had only been a moment, but she couldn't have missed the dislocated shoulders and blood oozing from its severed legs. She didn't know how it moved – she just knew it wasn't _human_.

The choking grew louder as the squelching sound approached. Lamae screwed her eyes shut, afraid the lights would flicker back for a second. Fighting the urge to scream, she turned to run, but felt a bony hand wrap around her ankle. Letting out a shriek, she fell to the floor. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. The choking was above her now. Something wet was dripping onto her face. A cold, slimy finger touched her cheek.

Lamae felt her breath hitch in her throat as something licked her ear. She reached out, trying to push away and fight, but only managed to grab long, stringy hair. The cold, slimy finger jabbed into her flesh. She was close to passing out. She was terrified. It had her in its grasp. She could hear the dislocated limbs grinding against their sockets. She felt a whisper of breath in her ear. It was forcing itself closer. The choking sound was deafening. She knew she was going to die.

"_Beclyn_… _I've found you, you murder…_" a voice screeched in her ear.

It coughed, spraying her ear with gooey, coagulated blood.

It was then that Lamae began to scream.

- - -

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**Wow. A Supernatural/Smallville crossover which doesn't have Dean and Chloe hooking up. Is it possible? **

**So there's the first chapter. It can only get better and I promise it will. Reviewers get a cookie!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter! Yay! I hope you're as excited as I am for this to be out. I've been trying to balance it out with uni and work. Hopefully I'll start releasing these chapters every week. I'm thinking maybe Saturday or Sundays. The third chapter is done, I just always wait for a few reviews first. Maybe this story plot will FINALLY go somewhere.**

**Warning: Adult themes, supernatural themes. **

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**Deadly Secret **

**Chapter 2**

Panic swamped Lamae as the darkness closed in. She felt cold, clammy fingers digging into her cheeks, tearing at her skin. The black, stringy hair surrounded her like a wiry cage, wrapping around her exposed limbs before forcing itself down her throat. She coughed, blood and spittle dribbling down her chin. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, as if something were scratching at them, forcing her to choke. Every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire. She heard footsteps running towards her. A voice calling to her. Maybe it was just in her mind.

And then…

"Lamae, what are you doing?" Clark cried out, bending down to help her.

Lamae blinked, too afraid to move. The thing that had attacked her was probably still there. What if the hair was still inside of her? What if it was hiding in the shadows, waiting to kill her the moment she stood?

"Lamae?" Jason called anxiously. She heard the running footsteps as he approached. He stood over her, his eyes wide in fright as he noticed the blood.

"I'm fine," Lamae lied, her voice croaking. "I just slipped over and banged my chin."

She felt feeble and pathetic as the two men helped her to her feet and brushed her off. The terrible, nauseating feeling of hair in her stomach and her lungs being torn apart had disappeared. Whatever had attacked her had moved on, or was waiting for her to be alone. She was caught off guard as Jason pulled her into a hug.

"Did you trip over your feet again?" he muttered teasingly, wiping the blood from her face.

Clark turned away, giving them some privacy. Lamae knew he wasn't comfortable with his coach going out with one of his friends.

"I was just trying to find some help for the photocopier, and it got dark, and I couldn't see anything, and then I tripped, and then you came," she babbled quickly, blushing at the lie. She figured lying was easier than explaining the experience. Even she could barely believe she had been attacked by…whatever that black-haired thing was. Sure, she'd been one step away from death, and scared out of her wits, but trying to explain it to Clark and Jason would guarantee a one-way ticket to Belle Reve Sanitarium.

"But what about you guys?" Lamae changed the topic abruptly, forcing a smile. "I thought you had training."

Jason shrugged as Clark turned back. "The team decided to cut training short today. Which means…" His arms tightened around her. "…I have you all to myself."

Clark gave a lop-sided, half-hearted grin. "Yeah, I guess I'd better go," he excused himself.

"Do you want a lift home?" Jason asked as he swivelled, not letting go of Lamae. Lamae let out a soft cry as she was pulled along.

Clark hesitated, his face expressionless as he tried to think of an excuse. "It's not too far away," he finally came up with, running down the hall before either Jason or Lamae could object.

"Okay…" Jason mumbled, raising an eyebrow. A playful grin spread across his lips as he said, "Well, Lamae, it's just you and me. How about we go home and grab some dinner and then you can tell me about this photocopier."

Lamae blushed, a relieved smile tugging at her mouth. "Sounds good," she told him, grabbing onto his arm as they made their way down the hall.

Dinner was the last thing on her mind. She was attacked by the black-haired thing for a reason. Now she just had to find out who Bec Lyn was.

- - -

Jason watched as Lamae bustled around the small kitchen, trying to create a satisfactory meal in only a few minutes. He smiled to himself, observing her every move from the corner of his eye as he set the table. He couldn't help but notice she seemed preoccupied and was rushing through her chores.

"You must have a lot of homework," he commented, placing the forks on the table.

Lamae froze, a statue holding a tray of steamed vegetables.

Jason frowned slightly. He didn't think it would startle her that much for him to notice. "You've been quiet ever since we got home and you're rushing to get through everything."

A nervous, shy smile crossed Lamae's lips. "I'm just thinking about my assignments, that's all."

"Speaking of which," he said, walking over to the bench and pulling her into a hug. "A little birdy told me you got an A on your English essay."

"It's not really that good…" Lamae muttered, but Jason could see the blush crawling across her cheeks as she placed the steamed vegetables on the counter.

He waited until she was facing him before he squeezed her tighter, grinning. "I'm so proud of my Lamae," he told her, "and an A in this household means chocolate cake and your favourite vanilla ice-cream for dessert."

He felt his heart melt as Lamae's green eyes lit up, hopeful. Sometimes she was just too adorable for words. She was like his little porcelain doll who constantly brought joy to his life. She had fantastic grades, a kind, friendly nature, and a productive attitude. He couldn't wait for her to graduate so he could tell everyone that he was dating the smartest, most perfect girl in Smallville.

He knew his being a teacher at Smallville High was tough on her. Even though they'd been dating before either had moved to Smallville, Lamae had a strong set of morals, and was innocent in the cutest way. She was the type of girl who would let a wounded animal maul her before she would ever consider killing it; would never contemplate taking drugs or getting drunk, or making love before marriage. He didn't mind. He was just happy to have her. She was his innocent, cute little Lamae.

Dishing out the vegetables, Lamae timidly asked, "Is it okay if I use your computer to do a bit of research for my assignments tonight?"

Jason smiled. "Of course."

- - -

Finding someone named Bec Lyn had been a disastrous and unfruitfully long process. It had taken hours for Lamae to search the school records, past student logbooks, local area guides and the phonebook. The closest she had come to the name Bec Lyn was a man called Jabecin Lynald and he had tried to sell her five bags of horse manure when she contacted him. It was sometime around two o'clock in the morning that she had decided she needed help with her search, and who better than Smallville's leading investigator?

"_Bec Lyn_?" Chloe read the name on the small piece of paper, raising an eyebrow as she leant back on her chair. "As in, first name Bec, last name Lyn?"

"We're doing an assignment in my history class and I thought I could do it on Bec Lyn," Lamae stammered, clutching her textbooks to her chest.

"Never heard of them. Who are they?" Lois interrupted, snatching the piece of paper from her blond-haired cousin. Chloe scowled, reaching over to take the paper back. Lois stepped back out of reach.

Lamae bit her lip, watching as the cousins fought. "I think they might be a murderer," she told them, uncertain.

It was Lois's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Since when does sweet little Lamae study murderers?"

"Oh, come on, cous'," Chloe said with a sigh, making another grab at the paper. "History is all about murder, sabotage and torture. It's what makes the past fun."

"But I think Bec Lyn might still be alive," Lamae stated. She ignored the cautious glances from the two girls as she continued, "The assignment is on contemporary history…"

"So you think this Bec is a murderer and is still alive? Why not check the Belle Reve files, I'm sure you'll find plenty of crazies there," Chloe told her.

"I just need a phone number or some contact details," Lamae pressed, feeling more uncertain by the moment.

Sighing, Chloe gave up on trying to get the paper back from her cousin. "I'll do a search for you, Lamae, but it means that you're going to be the one getting the game scores for the next few weeks."

Lamae's face brightened within an instant. "Really? You're really going to do a search for me?"

Lois planted the paper on the desk before placing her hands on her hips. "We'll get it done. Just come by this afternoon and we'll have the contact details for you."

Chloe frowned as she glared at her cousin. "I hope by 'we'll' you mean 'you and me' instead of the normal 'force everything on Chloe'."

Lois ignored her.

"Thank you so much!" Lamae gushed, grinning wildly. "I promise I'll make it up to you!"

She left before they could change their minds.

- - -

_Two Weeks Later_

Lamae tapped a blue pen on the desk, listening to the droning voice on the other end of the phone line explaining the advantages of a home loan. It was just one of the many phone calls which had ended in salesmen trying to sell her products she didn't want.

"Yes, thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Lynster," she said politely, "and if I ever need a premium-rate home loan I'll know who to call."

Hanging up the phone, she clicked the pen and crossed off another name from the long list sitting by the handset. She had been grateful when Chloe and Lois agreed to help her, but she hadn't expected the result to be over five hundred names. Most of the people she had contacted had nothing to do with murder. At least she had been able to test her Japanese when she had had to call a Sabeku Rin who resided in Tokyo.

She sighed as she leant back in her seat. Three hundred names down, only two hundred and sixty-seven to go. Her hand hovered over the handset as she heard Jason's car pull into the driveway. He was home early. Quickly hiding the list, she scurried to the laundry basket where she pretended to be folding clothes.

"Hun, I'm home!" Jason called, as he unlocked the front glass door. "Mail man came."

Lamae threw down the shirt she had haphazardly folded and bounced into the kitchen. "Welcome home!" she greeted heartily. She suddenly froze as she saw the horrified expression across his face.

Placing his backpack on the table, Jason stared at the paper he was holding before saying, "Have you seen this phone bill? They're charging us over six hundred dollars!" He flipped the page over and scanned the list of numbers on the other side. "I don't even know most of these people - some of these calls are to China!"

Lamae tilted her head, feigning confusion.

"Don't worry. I'll talk to the phone company tomorrow and tell them there's been a mix-up with the phone bills," he said with a sigh.

"Oh, no, don't do that!" Lamae cried, rushing forward to take the paper. She offered a shaky smile as Jason raised an eyebrow. "I'll talk to them myself and make sure they don't mix them up again," she fibbed.

A relieved grin covered Jason's face. "Thanks, hun," he told her, kissing her lightly on the forehead before walking past.

Lamae sighed, reading the amount due for the bill. She would have to work a few extra hours at the book store to pay it off.

- - -

Another week had passed, and Lamae still hadn't found the Bec Lyn she was after. She had finished the arduous task of calling the remaining numbers on the list, at least half of which had been to foreign countries. The plan to find Bec Lyn had fizzled, and the idea of hiring an exorcist to cleanse the school seemed more attractive by the day. At least one thing was for sure - she had no idea how she was going to explain the next phone bill to Jason.

Placing her head on the desk, she contemplated packing her bags and running off to Alaska until the entire ordeal blew over, not noticing when Chloe walked into the Torch office.

"Hey, Lamae," Chloe said cheerfully, throwing down the armload of papers she was carrying. "You're here early this morning."

Lamae looked up, startled. "Oh, good morning!"

"So I was thinking for this week we could make a sport-orientated edition of the Torch since the big game is coming up." Chloe made her way to her desk and sat down. She twisted on her chair as she continued, "But then I thought, 'hey, the Halloween dance is coming up. Maybe something spooky would be more suitable'. I was thinking a special edition with articles on local hauntings, hot spots and costume designs for the dance. What do you think?"

Offering a supportive smile, Lamae said, "Sounds like fun."

"Alright. So I'll get Clark and Lois onto the costume designs, I'll design and write the opening article while you can investigate a few of the local ghost stories." Chloe stood, bouncing with energy as she threw a brown bag over her shoulder. She was about to head out the door before she stopped and dug through a compartment in her bag.

Lamae blinked as Chloe handed a tiny piece of paper to her. '_Lucas Tailor' _and a phone number were neatly printed in the middle.

"I found it last night while searching through police records. Apparently there was a bar fight and someone was shot accidentally. Someone named Beclyn Jones was tied into it; I don't know if that makes them the murderer though. Don't even know if it's worth checking out." Glancing at her watch, Chloe then exclaimed, "Well, I'd better get going. Make sure you pull up a few stories and send me a text if you come across anything interesting. See ya!"

Waving with a smile, Lamae watched as Chloe disappeared out the door. Her gaze fell to the paper. She couldn't remember coming across the name Lucas Tailor, and she wasn't sure Beclyn Jones really fit the Bec Lyn persona she was looking for. There was only one way to find out.

Sighing, she pulled out her cell phone and dialled the number. Hopefully it wasn't too early in the morning to be making random calls. It rang twice.

"_Hello, Dean speaking,_" a male voice abruptly answered.

Lamae jumped, shocked that someone answered. "Hi," she greeted quickly, suddenly nervous. "I was wondering if I could talk to Beclyn."

A few moments of silence filled the line before a female voice said, "_Hello, Beclyn here. Who's this?_"

Lamae's heart raced in her chest. "H-Hi," she stammered, hesitating. "I'm Lamae and…"

"_Lamae, huh?_" the voice sharply cut her off before she could continue. "_Well, I think you've got the wrong number, Lamae_…"

"No, please!" Lamae pleaded, her hands shaking. "You might be the person I've been trying to find. Just…" She paused, trying to structure her sentence properly. She didn't want to seem like a begging, terrified stranger. She wanted this to be the person she had to find. All she needed was for them to hang up because she was acting like a fool.

Pressing the phone closer to her ear, she was surprised to find that the person on the other end of the line was waiting. "This might sound crazy," Lamae started, trying not to sound too delusional, "but I was told to find you by something that's in my school. It attacked me and I think it has attacked others. I just think…" She paused, checking to make sure she hadn't been hung up on. "… it might be a ghost. I need your help."

She waited for the click of the phone being hung up on the other end. There was no way a rational person would believe a ghost had sent someone to contact them. A long, tense silence filled the line. "Hello?" Lamae asked, her voice hopeful.

"_So where did you say you were?"_ the voice asked.

Lamae could have cried out in joy to hear that she hadn't been hung up on. "I'm in Smallville," she said, grinning. "The school is Smallville High."

"_Yeah, alright,_" the voice told her. "_I'll meet you there_."

"Thank you so…" _Click. _"…much." The dial tone buzzed in her ear.

A few moments passed as she sat, staring at the phone. Her heart continued to race in her chest, thoughts crashing through her mind.

Was the girl really coming to Smallville?

Did they think it was a prank?

Was that the Bec Lyn she was supposed to find?

Would she be able to help with the ghost?

How many more people would get attacked if she was wrong?

- - -

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**Do you like it so far? Think the story is crap? Wanna see more of Jason? Please let me know. I love feedback and it's the only payment I get. Besides, I wanna find out your hobbies and what you want more of in the story –pleads with eyes--.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the next chapter! My beta worked so hard to get this one done in time. She puts so much effort into editing these chapters. I bet I'll be the reason she ends up in a mental hospital XD . Let me finally introduce the Supernatural side of the story! I know I didn't pay much attention to the boys in this chapter but I'll make sure they're included more often. **

**Oh, and I'm now in love with Castiel. He's just one of those characters you have to love. So, if anyone finds a lonely Castiel, be sure to throw him my way. **

**Warning: Swearing, violence, adult themes. **

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 3**

_Three Days Later_

The black 1967 Chevy Impala hurtled down the lonely road, tearing past the speed signs hidden by the vast, overgrown corn fields. Although the sun had only been in the sky for a few hours, the three travellers in the vehicle had been on the road much longer. The road trip from New York to Kansas had taken a solid week of driving. During that time, not a single sarcastic or sceptical word had been uttered about the gig ahead. That was, until Dean Winchester parked the car in front of a bustling building with a giant plaque out the front labelled 'Smallville High'.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sam hesitantly asked Beclyn from the front seat.

Beclyn rolled her eyes. It was just like Sam to be so cautious, even if it was her stepping into unfamiliar territory, not him. Speaking of which…she could feel the butterflies growing, despite her calm demeanour. Dean seemed quite amused by the whole situation, however.

"I can't believe it," the oldest hunter commented with a sigh, "Beclyn is going back to school."

Beclyn's eye twitched. "Shut up, asshole," she snarled, whacking him over the head. "The only reason I'm doing this is because we need access to all areas of the school if this gig is going to go ahead. Besides, I need to scope out the area and get in touch with this Lamae chick."

"You're going to be a twenty-five year old passing as a teenage student," Dean pointed out, wincing as he rubbed the back of his head. "Come on, you've gotta admit this is kinda funny. I mean, I just might get to see you in a school uniform after all."

Before Beclyn could retaliate, Sam dug under the seat and passed a backpack full of books to Beclyn. "That has your student ID, exercise books and lunch money in it," he explained. "There's a pocket inside which holds your EMF reader, a bag of salt, some holy water, a silver cross…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Beclyn spat, opening the door and climbing out of the back seat. Sam had a habit of overloading her with paranormal weapons every time she was by herself. He was like an overprotective parent, only twice as annoying.

"Let's go through the rules again, Beclyn," Dean instructed her as she dug through her backpack. "One - call us every hour. Two – no doing anything stupid, like trying to do this gig alone. Three – at the first sign of trouble, get your butt outta there… "

"You couldn't even think of a fake name for me?" Beclyn suddenly protested as she found her ID card, ignoring Dean's list of rules.

Sam frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "I didn't see the point. You're going in there as you. Oh, and if anyone asks, you've been living in Canada for the past ten years."

Beclyn scowled, shoving the ID card to the bottom of the backpack. "Like anyone's gonna care about where I come from."

Dean and Sam stared at her. "You've never been to a new school, have you, Beclyn?" Dean said.

"Sure, I've been to a new school," she snapped at him, walking across to Sam's side of the car. "Though whether you'd call a haunted, abandoned education facility 'new'…" She opened the car door and reached into the glove box.

"What are you doing?" Sam inquired timidly.

Beclyn pulled out a hand gun.

"Whoa, whoa!" Dean cried out, grabbing her wrist to keep it out of sight. "What are you – crazy? This is a school! If someone finds you with that you're gonna get expelled."

"What do you suggest I do?" Beclyn snarled, refusing to drop the weapon. "You want me to walk in there with no protection?"

"Well, actually, if you'd been listening, I gave you…" Sam started.

"Here," Dean interrupted, shrugging off his leather jacket and offering it to Beclyn. "There's an iron blade in the pocket if you need it."

Beclyn reached for the jacket apprehensively. It was a well-known fact between the three hunters that Beclyn and Dean were romantically involved, but Beclyn still wasn't used to acts of kindness. Without a word of thanks, she slipped the jacket on, feeling for the blade.

"I'll get going then," she told them dismissively, turning her back.

"Have a good day at school!" Dean called.

"Remember your lunch money!" Sam joined in.

"Tell us if the other kids are mean to you!"

"We'll be here to pick you up after your big day!"

Several people walking into the school curiously turned towards the voices, smirking.

Beclyn's face reddened in fury. "_Will you morons shut up_?" she seethed, her teeth clenched. Before they could retaliate, she marched up the school footpath, ignoring the sidelong glances from the other students. It was bad enough that Sam and Dean had humiliated her, but now several students were going to be able to pick her out as the new kid. Hiding her face from the onlookers, she passed through the school doors. Her jaw dropped as she was confronted by a large hallway filled with hundreds of people laughing, chatting, and rushing to their lockers.

Shocked by the massive crowd, she side-stepped the central corridor to a long line of hideously painted lockers. Almost instantly she was shoved into them as a boy wearing a red and yellow jersey pushed past to grab a flying football.

"Watch out, Makra!" someone hissed as Beclyn fell against the nearest locker. She turned to see a blond-haired girl glaring at her, her hand poised to apply a bright layer of pink lipstick to her already-pink lips.

Beclyn glowered back. "Don't try and put on make-up in the middle of the fucking hallway, then!"

The girl's jaw dropped, her eyes bulging. "Excuse me?" she cried out.

"Stupid whore," Beclyn muttered under her breath, making sure to smack the girl with her backpack as she turned away. She abruptly walked head-on into another figure.

"Hey," the figure said, concerned. Beclyn felt a set of hands fall onto her shoulders. "Be careful. You don't want to trip over again, do you?"

Beclyn looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered boy with black hair smiling at her. Her eyes narrowed menacingly.

His smile faltered. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked gently, giving her shoulders a slight squeeze. "I didn't know you dyed your hair… or that you had contacts." His gaze flickered to something behind her. "And why does Chelsea look so angry?"

Although he was giving her a friendly smile, Beclyn felt her patience snap in a heartbeat. "What is she – your girlfriend?" she demanded, pushing him away.

He fell back, startled.

Beclyn pointed an accusing finger at the lipstick girl. "Well, you can tell your girlfriend that she can watch where she's going. Oh, and tell her that pink makes her look like a pig."

The boy gaped, his expression mimicked by onlookers as Beclyn pushed past. Without looking back, she stomped further down the hall, not caring that she was in the centre of the walkway. A girl with dark-coloured hair appeared from around the corner. Beclyn stormed ahead, ignoring the wave she offered.

More people turned to stare at her as she made her way down the hall. Beclyn felt her cheeks flush red in anger as a group of jersey-wearing boys turned to gawk. She wanted to pound them into the floor. She couldn't have cared less about being expelled or getting arrested. All she wanted to do was make the onlookers feel _pain_.

"Hey, stop!"

Beclyn faltered. She turned, knowing the voice was directed at her. Perhaps a teacher had spotted her and wanted to give her detention or something. Wouldn't matter. She needed a good screaming match. Instead, she was met with the black-haired boy from before and the dark-haired girl who had waved at her. They both looked concerned.

Stopping less than a step away, the dark-haired girl whispered, "Hey, I heard about what happened with Chelsea. Are you feeling alright?"

Beclyn raised an eyebrow, her glare patronizing. "Come again?"

The boy threw a worried glance at the girl.

The girl took a deep breath before trying again. "Did something happen – between you and Jason? I mean, I like what you've done to your hair, and that eye-colour really suits you, but don't you think it's a bit drastic? You can tell us if you've had a fight."

Beclyn opened her mouth, ready to blast the girl with every insensitive insult she could think of.

"Clark, Lana!" a carefree voice behind her interrupted.

The couple looked past Beclyn, their eyes widening as someone approached from behind.

"Oh, what now?" Beclyn snarled, turning to face the newcomer. She would make an example of them, show everyone what would happen if they tried to annoy her. Her eyes darted across the hall for a second before she felt her heart falter in her chest. Her eyes bulged, her vision blurring for a moment. It was like looking into a warped mirror.

She was looking at herself. Sort of. The girl standing a few feet away had long, light-brown hair and stunning green eyes. Apart from the subtle differences, Beclyn realized she could have been gazing at her twin. The girl looked twice as shocked.

"Hey, guys!" the girl suddenly cried out in a shrill shriek. She bounded over, throwing an arm around Beclyn's shoulders.

Beclyn choked as the girl threw her full weight into the one-armed hug. The couple glanced from one girl to the other, their mouths falling open. Although Beclyn's heart was hammering in her chest, she forced a grin across her lips. She could tell the girl was doing the same; she could feel the other's erratic heartbeat through their close contact. Several moments passed.

"Well, I'm glad you guys have met," the girl finally stammered, her tone nervous. She removed her choke-hold and placed her hands on Beclyn's shoulders, steering her away from the couple. "So, I haven't seen my sister in ages, so we're going to go talk now, so we can catch up. So, I'll see you in class, 'kay?"

Beclyn cried out as the girl dragged her away, not waiting for an answer from the stunned couple. People in the hallway turned in wonder as the girls quickly made their way past. Apparently twins were a gossip-worthy topic.

Beclyn was pushed through the nearest open door, into a girls' bathroom. The girl closed the door behind them, checking that the stalls were empty. While her back was turned, Beclyn took the chance to reach into her pocket and flick out the blade. She hid it underneath the jacket, ready to attack.

"That was crazy!" the girl suddenly cried out, sighing in relief. "Poor Clark and Lana. They must've thought you were me…" She wandered closer to Beclyn.

Beclyn's grip tightened around the knife, ready to strike.

"We look so much alike," the girl continued, taking another step forward. "Apart from the hair and eyes, we could be twins…" She abruptly leapt back, her face flushing scarlet. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" she cried, waving her arms in embarrassment. "I've rushed straight into things without introducing myself. My name's Lamae Makra. You must be Beclyn Jones." She held out her hand.

Beclyn didn't offer hers. "What the hell did you say to those two back there?" she demanded.

Lamae's smile fell.

"You told them we were sisters," Beclyn snarled, feeling the edge of the blade catch against the jacket. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but I'm not your sister."

Lamae's blush deepened as she wrapped her arms around herself and turned away. "I know that…" she muttered softly. Looking up, she explained, "I just couldn't accuse you of being a doppelganger or a shape-shifter out there. I had to come up with an excuse quickly, right?" A friendly smile touched her lips. "But now that we're here and I've taken a good look at you, I know that you're not a monster or something scary."

Beclyn jumped as Lamae suddenly clapped her hands together.

"Now that we have that sorted, I can take a look at your timetable!" Lamae proclaimed, grabbing Beclyn's bag before she could protest.

Beclyn watched suspiciously as Lamae opened the bag and shuffled through the contents. She was glad the pocket holding the supernatural weapons was hidden under a large textbook.

"Here we go," Lamae muttered, whipping out a piece of paper. "So you have maths, science, history, home economics, physical education and English." She beamed joyfully, flipping over the paper. "This is fantastic! We're in the same English, science and history class. Not only that, but you're in Coach Teague's phys. ed. class."

"Yeah, that's great and all," Beclyn interrupted, her tone snappy and impatient, "but I'm here for a reason. You rang me saying…"

A shrill bell rang abruptly from the hallway.

Lamae let out a shriek. "Oh, no! We're going to be late for English!" She latched onto Beclyn's shoulders, shoving her from the bathroom. "If we don't hurry we'll miss the first act of Macbeth!"

Beclyn faltered, her face contorted in confusion.

"First act of what-now?" she murmured under her breath.

- - -

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**My beta is the one who really wanted Beclyn to do home economics. Originally I had her doing another subject, but I just can't say no to those puppy-dog eyes – especially when she's the one editing my story. Besides, those who know Beclyn can tell it'll make a hilarious filler for a chapter. **

**I don't feel I've given enough background for the characters. I feel bad for the people who haven't read Deadly Betrayal and are tossed into the story without any idea who Beclyn is and what relation she has to the story. I'll try and explain things later without boring my fantastic readers from the last story. **

**I love how people are asking me questions. I even have people trying to guess the plot already! It's awesome how readers are putting so much thought into it! I'll be sure to chuck in a few surprises and heavy chapters just to keep the ball rolling. I've got an entire list of adults-only subjects which I've gotta cover in this story. But everyone knows I love to throw in fluff-chapters, too. **

**Hate to sound like a broken record but I love reviews, comments and even flames. Let me know what you think (even anonymously) and I'd much appreciate it. **


	4. Chapter 4

**This is the newer, better version of chapter 4. My beta is slowly working her way back into things. I should have had this up sooner but I've been addicted to True Blood. My beta and I are fighting over Eric - because he's smexy and psychopathic and gorgeous --fangirls-- . Oh, and I haven't been able to watch the most recent episode of Supernatural. Somebody give me a low-down on this week's episode before I go out of my mind! **

**Warning: Swearing**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville, Supernatural, Shakespeare or the Lion King. Speaking of which, I spent almost all of yesterday watching childhood Disney movies. --sigh-- Day well-spent.  
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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 4**

The English classroom was almost full by the time the two girls arrived. Beclyn had been pushed and shoved along the corridor, but somehow it hadn't been because Lamae was bossy. The girl had slipped and almost smacked her head on the lockers at least twice as she hurried around corners and dodged the other scurrying students. Beclyn wouldn't have taken much notice if it hadn't been for the fact that Lamae was a grabby person when she fell. She was irritated the first time Lamae had latched onto her shoulder and pulled her down as she lost her balance, but the second time had her thoroughly frustrated. The idea of Lamae Makra being a dangerous, psychopathic creature seemed more and more absurd as Beclyn's patience dwindled. Despite this, Beclyn was still willing to kill her, if only to put the poor kid out of her misery. Anyone that clumsy couldn't possibly have the will to live.

"Over here, Beclyn," Lamae whispered, once again latching onto Beclyn's arm to guide her to an empty desk.

"You're late, Miss Makra," the English teacher droned from the front of the classroom, her back turned as she scribbled phrases on the blackboard.

Lamae jumped, her arm almost hitting Beclyn in the face. "I'm sorry, Miss," she mumbled a reply, releasing her grip as her face flushed bright scarlet.

As Lamae took her seat next to the window, Beclyn stood in the middle of the room, watching as other students swivelled to eyeball the newcomer. There was an instant wave of whispering and gossip as gazes were thrown from one twin to the other.

"Today we're going to be studying Shakespeare's Macbeth so I hope you all…" the teacher began to announce, but stopped as she turned and saw Beclyn standing. She shifted her over-sized glasses to the bridge of her nose, her eyes darting from Lamae back to Beclyn. "And you are?" she demanded.

Raising an eyebrow, Beclyn crossed her arms and answered, "Beclyn Jones."

Another wave of chatter circulated the room.

"…_Look the same…"_

"…_Must be twins…"_

"…_Different last names…"_

"…_Leather jacket…"_

The teacher narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You're the new girl?"

A scowl tugged at Beclyn's lips. "Well, obviously."

One or two people giggled.

"We're sisters," Beclyn explained, gesturing lazily to Lamae. "Our last names are different because our parents are divorced." It was a lie, but Lamae bobbed her head, agreeing as people turned to throw questioning looks at her.

The teacher sniffed, pursing her lips. Beclyn guessed the woman couldn't have been much older than herself, yet she had the grumpy-old-bat look down pat.

"Where did you go to school before coming here?" the teacher pressed, her tone sour.

Beclyn shrugged, training her gaze on the teacher's. "Toronto – Canada's capital."

Grimacing, the teacher inquired, "Have you studied Macbeth already?" She raised an eyebrow, challenging Beclyn.

"Studied it, done assignments on it, everything," Beclyn lied, not breaking eye-contact. There was no way she was losing the battle against some stuck-up cow.

"Good," the teacher snapped, slapping her hands on the desk in front of the board. "It means I won't have to give you an extension for the essay due on Monday."

Beclyn smirked. The teacher seemed pleased with herself.

_Doesn't matter, _Beclyn thought, sitting in her seat. _I'll have finished this gig in no time at all. Come Monday, I'll be gone. _

- - -

When the bell finally rang, Beclyn was the first person through the classroom door. She pushed past the horde of students pouring into the hall. Stomping through the halls, her mind reeled with scathing insults and crude words. People leapt from her path as they caught sight of her snarling visage. The main doors were in sight by the time she finally stopped, waiting for Lamae to catch up.

"Can you believe that bitch?" Beclyn snarled the moment Lamae was in hearing range. "She treated me like a moron in front of everyone else!"

Lamae shook her head, her shoulder heaving with each breath. "She asked you if you had studied any other plays by Shakespeare and you said the Lion King…"

"It's a play, isn't it?" Beclyn retaliated, crossing her arms.

"It's a Disney movie!"

Beclyn shrugged. "Like I care. She was just waiting for a moment to humiliate me. Oh, and then she gave me a Macbeth book and told me to read it out loud. The fucking thing wasn't even in English!"

Lamae gasped and covered her mouth as Beclyn turned to raise an eyebrow at her. "Sorry," Lamae apologised, "I just don't like it when people swear."

Beclyn rolled her eyes and stormed past the crowd coming from the oval.

"But the play was in English!" Lamae protested as she ran after her. "It's how people used to speak back then."

"Oh, brilliant!" Beclyn snarled. "Not only is Shakespeare a psychopath, he's also dead!"

Lamae fell into step behind her. Chewing her lip, she asked, "Have you ever been to Canada?"

"Isn't that what I said back in English?" Beclyn replied.

"Yeah, I know, but…" Lamae shrugged sheepishly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Toronto isn't the capital of Canada…"

Beclyn paused, catching the last part of the sentence. "Say what now?"

Before Lamae could answer, Beclyn jumped as a cell phone went off in her bag.

"For the love of…" Beclyn seethed, her fingers tearing at the zip on her backpack. "I was meant to call Dean…" Finally managing to open her bag, she dug around inside, pulling out a cell phone.

Lamae's eyes widened. "Oh, it's one of those new cell phones," she exclaimed in adoration.

Beclyn scowled at her before clicking the button she thought would put the call through. "What?" she snarled into the phone.

"_Whatever happened to calling me?_" Dean's voice yelled on the other end of the line.

"I got side-tracked in English," Beclyn explained, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"_You went to class?_"

"No, I sat out in the hallway for an hour and a half," she replied sarcastically. "Of course I went to class, Dean!"

"_Okay, fine. Did you find the chick_?"

Beclyn turned, throwing a glance at Lamae. Lamae was standing behind her, admiring the phone. "Yeah, I found her." She turned and stepped away from Lamae. "I'm still figuring out this gig, but I think it might be a bit bigger than we thought."

"_What makes you say that_?"

Beclyn threw a quick glance over her shoulder at her twin.

"Don't worry. I'll tell you later. What have you and Sam been doing?"

As Beclyn turned away, Lamae sighed and fiddled with her hands. They had history, science and maths to get through before the end of the day. Lamae couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. If Beclyn had acted up in English, how would she handle science and maths? After all, the English teacher was _nothing_ compared to Ms Hardy.

Losing herself in thought, Lamae didn't notice the gang of giggling cheerleaders approaching from the opposite hall, until a pair of hands shoved her roughly from behind.

Letting out a cry, she flew towards a row of lockers. Pain burst through her shoulder as her weight slammed against the metal. Clutching at her shoulder, Lamae refused to turn her blushing, ashamed face to the girls as they sneered and congratulated the girl who had shoved her. It didn't take three guesses to know it was Gemma Colsa.

"You okay?"

Lamae glanced up, her heart clenching as she saw Beclyn staring suspiciously at her. She nodded numbly, pretending her shoulder didn't feel like it was on fire as she watched the group of girls strut down the hall.

"Honestly," Beclyn growled, "I turn away for one second and you manage to trip over again. You must be the world's biggest klutz."

"I'm okay," Lamae mumbled, too humiliated to meet Beclyn's stare. "We should just get to science."

Beclyn frowned. She had only met Lamae that morning and she knew something was wrong. However, that didn't mean she was willing to deal with her problems.

"Fine, let's get to class."

- - -

The last class for the day came and went. As students cheered as the last bell rang and hurried in a mass to get out of the school, Lamae spent the extra few minutes trotting after Beclyn, listening as the dark-haired girl spat obscenities about the last class. Usually Lamae wouldn't try to chat with someone so rough and brash, but she sensed Beclyn had a subtle kindness.

Stopping at the double doors leading to the front of the school, Lamae muttered, "I'm sorry that I didn't get to tell you more about the ghost. It's just that I have to rush home and start cooking dinner for my boyfriend."

_That, and tell him that I now have a twin sister in his class_, she added silently.

Beclyn raised an eyebrow. "You cook for your boyfriend?"

A soft blush crept across Lamae's cheeks. "We live together," she explained, biting her lip.

It was Beclyn's turn to gawk. "How the hell did you manage to get a boyfriend? You're one of those people who faint the moment they come into contact with a guy."

Lamae pouted playfully. "Am not!" She clutched her schoolbag, a soft smile forming over her lips. "It's just that Jason's different. He's not like all the other boys who just want to go party every night and get drunk. He's really into cultural things."

Beclyn almost let out a shriek as Lamae swished around to beam. "I met him while in Paris," she continued, letting out an infatuated sigh. "He was adorable and was the only person I met who could speak English. We met when I dropped my study books, but I left before I realised I had dropped them so he took them to my villa and…"

Scowling, Beclyn asked, "Do you always erupt into a story when you mention him?"

Lamae tried to conceal the blush staining her face. "Sorry," she mumbled. "It's just that I don't get to tell many people about him. It's sort of a secret…"

Beclyn glanced up as the Impala turned into the street, the driver letting out two sharp honks. "Alright then," she said as she ran down the path. Waving, she called, "See you tomorrow, Lae!"

Returning the wave, Lamae paused. She had never been called 'Lae' before.

"_Lae_," she muttered under her breath, testing the nickname. "_Laye_. _Lay_. _Laeee_."

Smiling, she dashed down the footpath, suddenly more excited to tell Jason about her twin sister and new nickname.

- - -

"She was such a menace!" Miss Jastelle groaned loudly, rubbing her temples. "I asked her to read _one_ page and she snapped at me, saying that her book wasn't in English!"

"Oh, I know what you mean," Ms Hardy responded with a sigh. "When I told her to write an equation on the board she gave me a speech about how she didn't need math in her line of work."

"Line of work, I'll bet!" Miss Jastelle hissed. "She reminds me of a spoilt brat."

On the other side of the room, Jason poured himself a cup of coffee, wondering if the English and math teachers could speak any louder. It wasn't that he despised the two women, it just became a tiring chore for his nerves every time one made a pass at him. He figured out their game easily enough. While one chatted him up, the other would glare jealously before seeing how long she could check out his butt.

He hated staff meetings. It was the principal's excuse for torture; to keep the staff back another hour for any reason he felt needed to be addressed. The last staff meeting had been about who would supply the tea-room essentials and cracking down on litter around the school. Needless to say, he preferred staying home with Lamae and enjoying a good movie.

"… and when I asked if she was the new student she snapped at me as if she was too good for my class," Miss Jastelle continued angrily. "How can kids be like that these days? They're just…" Suddenly catching the sight of Jason she called, "Oh, Jason! Jason, over here!"

Jason faltered. Trying to hide a grimace, he approached the two women.

"Have you seen the new girl?" Ms Hardy asked, quickly running a hand through her hair in a failed attempt to neaten it.

He had seen an extra name on his phys. ed. role, but hadn't paid much attention to it. Shaking his head, Jason gave a smile and said, "No, I haven't. I hear she's quite the terror."

"Oh, she is!" Miss Jastelle exclaimed, rushing to gain his attention. Jason ignored the fact that two of her shirt buttons had somehow managed to unbutton themselves while he'd crossed the room.

"That Beclyn Jones thinks she rules everything. She has such a bad mouth on her as well," Ms Hardy included.

"Well, she is from Canada," Miss Jastelle pointed out. "I just can't believe she's the twin sister of…"

Jason jumped slightly as his cell phone went off in his pocket. "Excuse me," he muttered, turning away as he answered the call. He tried to ignore the leering gazes of the other teachers. "Oh, hey, Tony!" he greeted enthusiastically once he recognised the voice. "What's up?"

Miss Jastelle and Ms Hardy leant forward, trying to catch snippets of the conversation.

Jason's face fell. "What – tonight? I thought our assignment wasn't due until the end of the month!" Letting out a loud sigh, he finally muttered, "Yeah, yeah. I'll have to tell my girlfriend that I won't be home until late. Catch you later. Bye."

He had barely turned around when Ms Jastelle purred, "Girlfriend?"

"My, my, have you been keeping something from us, Jason?" Ms Hardy teased.

Jason felt bile rise in his throat. "Sorry, ladies," he apologized, making his way to the door. "My group partner wants to get this assignment done as soon as possible."

Not waiting for a reply, he bolted from the room.

- - -

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**I'm sorry that I had to repost this chapter again! I've finished the next chapter but I'm not sure if my beta has received it. I'm thinking I need to invest in a taser to get her moving. **

**Dare I ask for reviews for a chapter which has been posted twice? --inserts naked Jason--  
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	5. Chapter 5

**Next chapter finally. I've barely been able to sleep lately. It's too hot to sleep at night here. Every time I close my eyes I have nightmares. My transfixion of True Blood has finally come back to kick me after I had a nightmare last night of running away from a horde of starving vampires. Oh, and I also woke up experiencing a physiological phenomenon this morning where you can't move or scream for help and usually are still having some sort of waking-dream (hallucinations). I woke up, couldn't move and hallucinated that the Grudge was beside my bed. Talk about a fudging wake-up call. **

**Warning: swearing, adult themes, sexual themes**

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**Deadly Secret **

**Chapter 5**

"It can't be that bad," Sam protested, jabbing at the greasy steak on his dinner plate. "Teachers just want to make sure you're keeping up with the class, so they have to ask a lot of questions."

Beclyn scowled as she dipped a handful of chips in her gravy. She stuffed the chips into her mouth, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "You weren't there. They kept asking stupid questions to make me look dumb."

"You're not exactly the brightest student when it comes to Shakespeare," Sam stated flatly. He cried out as Beclyn's fist collided with his shoulder. Wincing, he quickly added, "I mean that everyone else has been studying it for ages. You can't be blamed for that."

"That's exactly what I mean!" Beclyn proclaimed, abandoning her chips to take a massive chunk from her burger. "The bitches think I can just join in and talk about Mobath and know it completely connects to Romo and Jalette."

Sam blinked. "You mean Macbeth, and Romeo and Juliet?"

"Who even calls their kid those names?" she demanded, ignoring his last comment.

Dean leaned back in his chair, swigging his beer. "I dunno. I always thought the chick who played Juliet was hot – in both the movies."

A smirk flitted across Sam's lips. "Hey, that's an idea. You and Beclyn could call your first daughter Juliet."

Beclyn and Dean stopped moving. A tense silence filled the room as the two older hunters glared disbelievingly at the youngest.

"I mean…" Sam nervously began, feeling his mouthful of steak lodge itself squarely in his throat. He swallowed hard before offering a shaky grin. "Just joking?"

"Not funny, Sam," Dean growled.

Sam turned to Beclyn. She was glaring at her plate as if she was contemplating smashing his face in with it.

"I was just jok…" he began, but was cut off when Dean demanded, "So what's with this gig? Have we figured what's haunting this school or what?"

Beclyn paused, her gaze not wavering from the burger. "Lamae forgot to give me the details. All I know is that it's a ghost and it knows who I am."

"Could be Sarah," Sam pointed out.

Sarah, Beclyn's cousin, was the only relative she had ever met. Having died at the age of six, it was a shock to the hunters to find the adult ghost of Sarah while investigating a set of male murders. Although Sarah had been behind the murders, the hunters had let her free provided that she didn't kill anyone else and was always contactable. Not that they had contacted her since. Sam always thought it was peculiar that Beclyn didn't try to reach out to her dead cousin more to try and uncover her forgotten childhood. Then again, Sarah wasn't exactly the easiest person to talk to, considering her extreme bi-polar personality mixed with the attention span of a goldfish.

"This one feels different," Beclyn explained, nudging her burger with a fork. Sam noticed she was refusing to look at Dean. "Sarah uses reflections as a way to attack people. From what I could see there weren't any mirrors for Sarah to travel through and Lamae told me over the phone that it had attacked her, meaning this thing goes for girls as well."

"About Lamae," Sam interrupted, leaning forward. "I searched her name in the Smallville High School database and it didn't come up. I figured with a name so unique it'd match instantly to an individual student."

"Yeah, well, that's probably because you tried to spell it like it sounds," Beclyn said with a sigh. "It sounds like _La-my-ya,_ but it's spelt _L-a-m-a-e_."

Sam paused, contemplating. "That name sort of sounds familiar…"

"What - old girlfriend of yours, Sammy?" Dean joked.

"No, and it's _Sam_," Sam quickly snapped in retaliation.

"Whatever," Dean muttered. Chugging the rest of his beer, he said, "Beclyn, if you don't get the details on this gig then we're not doing it."

"Excuse me?" Beclyn hissed, finally turning to glare at him.

"You heard me," he said. "We could be doing other things. Sam did some research and found this area is loaded with demonic activity like meteor showers, people doing strange things and there's even this set of caves with…"

"Are you telling me that a bunch of rocks, a few crazy people and a bunch of useless caves is more important than students' lives?" she demanded angrily.

"There's no record of people dying at the school, and if we had the time we would stick around to do this gig, but you're forgetting that we've just come from New York ,where we saw a message engraved in stone about a frigging monster starting a demonic apocalypse," Dean stated, his voice rising.

"Not to mention that we could only translate half of the engraving," Sam uttered, glancing to his brother. "Once we find the second half we can start looking for whatever this monster is…"

"And kill it," Dean finished firmly.

Beclyn's face fell as if she was contemplating her options. Letting out a sigh, she placed an elbow on the table and leaned her head against her hand. "Did I happen to mention that me and Lamae are almost exactly identical?"

- - -

Jason blinked sleepily as he wrapped a possessive arm around Lamae's dozing form. She looked adorable in the morning, with her eyes closed and her face so placid. By the time he had finished researching his group assignment, midnight had come and gone. He had wanted to spend some quality time with his girlfriend, but she usually went to bed at around ten, so she was fast asleep by the time he came home.

Rolling over, he switched off the alarm before it could start its blaring wake-up call. He figured Lamae could do with the extra few minutes sleep while he dressed. It also meant that he could safely undress in the bedroom without scaring the life out of her if the alarm went off while he was taking off his pants. He had learnt the hard way that she wasn't ready for the sex part of the relationship.

Quickly getting changed, he went about getting ready for the school day. Grabbing an energy shake from the fridge, he chugged the contents before moving across to the coffee maker and making his morning French-vanilla latte. Laying out the previous day's paper across the table, he sipped his coffee while skimming through the news. He frowned as he came across a news article mentioning Lamae's family name. Putting down his coffee, he quickly glanced through the article. It was a brief update on a medical foundation in Australia, and how the Makra Corporation had donated enough money to keep the foundation from ever requesting another cent.

As he read the amount donated, he heard footsteps and a drowsy yawn from the hallway. Quickly tearing the page from the newspaper, he scrunched it in one fist and turned to find Lamae gazing sleepily at him.

She blinked, yawned, and then smiled. "Ohayo gozaimasu."

"Good morning to you, too, sweetie," he replied, standing to kiss her on the forehead.

Rubbing her eyes, she muttered, "The alarm clock didn't go off this morning…"

Jason faltered. "Yeah, I think you might have accidentally turned it off last night," he fibbed, dropping his empty coffee mug into the sink.

Lamae blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized softly. "If you hadn't woken up early then I would've made you late…"

"Don't worry about it," he said, tucking the crumpled news article into his jeans pocket. "Well, I'd better get going," he announced, tucking his bag under his arm.

Nodding, Lamae smiled cheerfully for a moment before suddenly crying out. "No, wait!" she called, rushing after him. "There's something I forgot to tell you!"

"That's alright. You can tell me later," he told her with a grin, making his way towards his car.

"But it's _reaaally _important," she stressed, following him.

Winking, he said, "You can make it a surprise."

Continuing to grin as climbed into the car, Jason closed the door and leant back in his seat. Lamae was really the best girl he had ever met. She was so honest, thoughtful, kind…

Turning the key in the ignition, he waved to her as he pulled out onto the dirt road leading to the school. He couldn't wait for Lamae to finish high school so they could get married.

- - -

"Silver?" Dean demanded, turning in the driver's seat towards his brother.

Sam sifted through Beclyn's school bag. "Check."

"Iron blade?"

"Check."

"Holy water?"

Sam rummaged to the bottom of the bag. "Check."

"Guys, I can assure you that she's not some crazy psyched-out killer," Beclyn groaned from the backseat.

"How can you be so sure?" Dean retaliated. "You only met the girl yesterday."

Beclyn crossed her arms and leant forward. "Shouldn't that say enough if _I _trust her?"

Sam cried out as Dean snatched the backpack and threw it at Beclyn. "Get the gig info, scope the school, get out," Dean instructed her, fighting Beclyn's unwavering glare. "All it takes is one screw-up and you're in more danger than you can imagine."

Beclyn's eyes darkened dangerously as she snarled, "I know how to do my job, Dean. I was doing this for five years before you came along."

"Funny," Dean replied, his eyes narrowing. "All I've noticed these past few months is that you don't know the first thing about hunting."

Sam's gaze darted nervously between the two hunters. The tension in the car was building and neither of the two older hunters were going to back down. Before Sam could intervene, Beclyn kicked the backdoor open and climbed out, slamming it shut before crossing the road. Dean slowly turned to face the steering wheel, his face tense.

"Dean…" Sam started, glancing out the window to watch Beclyn march through the double doors leading into the school.

"Don't start," Dean cut him off as he started the Impala.

Sam leant back in his seat and let out an exasperated sigh. It was difficult to remember at times that Beclyn and Dean were a couple. Their behaviour was reminiscent of the intensely violent days when the three hunters had first met, rather than the good friends they were supposed to be. Sam swallowed anxiously. He had to say something to brighten the mood or else he'd have to deal with an emotionally silent older brother for the rest of the day.

Forcing a smile, Sam pointed out, "Beclyn's not gonna give you sex for a week now that you've insulted her pride."

Dean paused, face falling in dismay. Both of the hunters knew Dean's downstairs brain wasn't going to last the week if Beclyn didn't forgive him soon.

- - -

"_Stupid son-of-a-bitch_," Beclyn hissed under her breath, slamming shoulders with anyone who dared walk too close to her.

Although it was early for a school day, Beclyn could feel the curious stares on the back of her neck as she stormed through the halls. She bit her lip, angrily wondering if _anything_ in Smallville was more interesting than watching a girl walk down a school hall. Making her way through halls lined with lockers, she finally paused for a moment to catch her breath. She leant against a yellow-painted wall, her mind reeling with images of Dean.

He had to be the most frustrating person she had met. One moment he would be cowering in fear at the mere mention of her name; the next he would be challenging her authority and trying to put her in her place. She considered herself to be a strong hunter – perhaps one of the strongest. Yet, there he was, prancing around and mocking her well-earned title. He was _nothing_ compared to her. While he was off hunting baby swamp monsters or _whatever_ it was he did with his father, she was tracking and slaughtering the notoriously lethal werewolves of New York. _She_ had made a name for herself. Monsters _trembled _when they heard she was coming. What did Dean Winchester have for himself? A diary and a lost father who didn't even want to see his sons. It was _pathetic. _

Perhaps she could use Sam's research skills to investigate the gig. She just needed him to run a search on any spiritual activity around the school over the past few years. Sam wouldn't dare say no to her. If she was careful, she could do the gig behind Dean's back and destroy the ghost before…

Beclyn's gaze shot towards the far hallway. She had heard a familiar voice. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as footsteps approached. There was something about the voice that set her teeth on edge. It sounded far too familiar, like…

"… make sure you're on the field this afternoon, Warren! We're going to win this season!"

Dean appeared from the hallway, a blue clipboard in his hands as he tugged a pen from his shirt pocket. He sighed casually as he scribbled something on a piece of paper. Glancing up, he caught sight of Beclyn. Blinking for a moment as if trying to recognise her, he offered her a smile and a short hand wave.

Something snapped inside Beclyn. Blood pounded in her ears as she marched forward, her face twisted into a furious snarl. He was the one who had told her to abandon the gig. He had challenged her skills as a hunter. She could handle his petty insults and obnoxious attempts to shake her confidence, but now he had crossed the line. If Dean thought he could trample over her territory and hunt down the ghost first, he had another think coming.

She was going to show him just how dangerous it was to challenge her authority.

Dean glanced up at the same moment she grabbed the front of his crimson shirt.

"Whoa, hey!" he cried out as she yanked him towards the hallway he came from.

Throwing a single glance down the hall to check they were alone, Beclyn shoved him against the wall. Her other hand dug into the side of her backpack, her fingers curling around the first blade she touched.

"If you wanted us to be alone this much, I could have waited a few extra minutes this morning…" Dean pointed out with a flirty wink.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Beclyn demanded, pushing her fist harder against his chest.

Dean winced in pain, his clipboard dropping to the floor. "What do you mean?" he asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

"You know _exactly_ what I mean," Beclyn seethed, moving her hand to his throat. "After _everything_ you said about this gig not being good enough and how I don't know how to do my job…"

Dean blinked. He lifted a finger, pointing at her head. "Was your hair like that this morning?"

"Don't try to change the subject!" Beclyn snarled in reply. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest as he squirmed slightly. "Who are you to decide what I do? Oh, wait, let me guess. Sam's walking around here as well. You morons snuck into the school to try and show you can do a better job than I can."

"What?" Dean choked out, his hand moving to try to loosen hers. "No, that was Mitchell Warren I was just talking to. He was asking about training this afternoon…"

"You're such an asshole," Beclyn hissed, pulling the blade from her bag.

A hurt expression covered Dean's face. He turned his head, gazing away for a few moments before turning back to her. "Look, I think you're having a bad day. Maybe we should duck into my office and talk about what's made you this way," he suggested grimly.

Beclyn scowled, making sure to dig her nails into his neck. "You're so fucking full of it."

"Why are you so angry at me?" he asked defensively. "Is this about your brownies? I thought they tasted great! I wouldn't even call them burnt. I just didn't want another one because they had too many calories, honest."

"Just shut up," Beclyn retaliated, flicking the blade to his throat.

"Whoa," Dean gasped, his eyes darting fearfully to the knife. "Let's take a breather and talk about this."

"_Leave_," she ordered, her tone malicious.

Water filled Dean's eyes. "You don't know what you're saying."

Beclyn leaned forward, digging the blade into his flesh. "Do you really want to stay around to find out?"

Dean licked his lips nervously, his gaze staring straight into Beclyn's menacing glare. He shook his head sadly, giving a shaky smile. "I go where you go, remember? I'm not leaving you."

"Fine," Beclyn seethed, gritting her teeth. She hadn't anticipated Dean's strong stance against her hunt. "Guess that means I'll be sending you in pieces back to your brother!"

Then she brought the knife down towards his throat.

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**Goodbye, Jason. It was great having you in the story, but for the sake of plot I'm going to have to let you go. I hear the angels are recruiting people to fight for the apocalypse in season 5, have fun with that. **

**Next chapter is on its way as long as I get a few reviews.  
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	6. Chapter 6

**Christmas is just around the corner and I always put the Christmas presents under the tree early so I can scope out how many presents I'm getting. I've just figured out that I'm getting two presents out of the fifty under the tree. I mean, seriously. Most of these presents are going to people who don't even **_**live**_** with my family. I'm tempted to go out shopping and buy myself a heap of gifts to make myself look good on Christmas day. It's war. **

**Warning: violence, sexual themes, adult themes, swearing.**

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 6**

"BECLYN!"

Jason sucked in a breath, waiting for the knife to tear into his neck. The blade hovered bare millimetres from his throat, ready to slice through the thin skin protecting his artery. He felt his hands begin to shake as footsteps approached from the end of the hall.

"What are you doing?" a familiar voice cried from beside him. He turned slightly, not daring to make any sudden movements in case this crazy version of Lamae stabbed him.

That was before he saw the real Lamae gaping at the girl holding the knife.

The girl rolled her eyes, continuing to grip the blade. "Lamae, this is kind of personal…" She let out a hiss as Lamae grabbed her shoulder, pulling her away.

"What are you thinking?" Lamae demanded, pointing at the knife with a horrified expression. "This is a _school! _What are you doing walking around with a weapon?"

The dark-haired girl frowned, clearly annoyed at the interruption. She nodded her head in Jason's direction. "I was in the middle of teaching a lesson to…"

"What could the assistant coach possibly have done to you?" Lamae demanded shrilly. Her terrified gaze darted between Jason and the dark-haired girl. "What would have happened if you'd stabbed Jason?"

"Now, look here…" the dark-haired girl started before suddenly hesitating. Jason felt his heart hammer in his chest as she said, "'_Jason'_?"

Lamae let out a chocking sound. "I mean Coach Teague…"

"Jason," the dark-haired girl repeated, her tone incredulous.

Jason pushed himself away from the wall, swallowing the lump of fear clogging his throat. His eyes drifted from one version of Lamae to the other. One was his sweet, innocent, brown-haired, green-eyed angel, while the other was a malicious, violent, dark-haired, blue-eyed psychopath. He couldn't help a twinge of nervousness as he noticed the blade was still in her hand.

Offering a quivering smile and a hand to shake, he said, "Hey. Jason Teague –assistant coach at Smallville High."

The girl narrowed her eyes at him. "Beclyn Jones – Lamae's sister," she replied tartly, ignoring his hand.

Jason retracted his arm, feeling tension clog his throat as Beclyn studied him. "Miss Makra, can I have a word with you?" he asked Lamae, who seemed to be rather joyful now that he had met the vicious imposter of his girlfriend.

As the couple stepped out of the hearing range of Beclyn, Lamae grinned widely before saying, "Surprise!" Her grin faded as Jason stared at her. "What's wrong?"

Jason gaped. "Where do I start?" he demanded, throwing a glance back at Beclyn to make sure she hadn't moved. "Who is she and why does she look like you?"

"She's my sister!" Lamae proclaimed happily.

"You don't have a sister," Jason pointed out.

Lamae pouted. "I know. It's just what we're telling everyone that to explain why we look the same."

Jason leaned forward, paranoid that Beclyn was stepping closer to listen to them. "It's not normal to find someone that looks almost exactly like you…" he began in a pressing tone.

"It's okay," Lamae told him, smiling. "I found Beclyn and need her help. I think it's great that we look alike!" She faltered as Jason lay his hands heavily on her shoulders.

"Think about what you're saying," he instructed. "Some girl comes into your life and she looks almost exactly like you. I know you see this as fun and games, but try to remember who you are and what type of fortune you will be inheriting. People will do outrageous things to try to get on your good side…"

Lamae frowned lightly, gently shaking his hands from her shoulders. "You think Beclyn is pretending to be my sister so she gets my parents' inheritance?" She let out an amused laugh. "Jason, don't you think if someone was willing to spend thousands of dollars on plastic surgery, wouldn't they have researched a few minutes on the internet or spent fifty cents on a phone call first, to find out that my parents and I despise each other?"

"Con-artists don't care about logic," Jason whispered. "They just want money and will do anything to get it…"

"Oh, my gosh, Beclyn!" Lamae suddenly cried, turning away from Jason. "You've got physical education first today, right? It means you're going to spend the first period with Coach Teague!"

"Absolutely brilliant," Beclyn hissed sarcastically from the other side of the hall. A loud bell sounded from the main hall.

"I'll see you later, Beclyn!" Lamae called, turning back to Jason. She was almost bouncing with excitement as she said, "You can take Beclyn to class, okay?" She had already swished around and was leaving before Jason could object.

"Jeez…" he muttered, almost having a heart-attack as he turned to find Beclyn standing beside him. He scurried to collect his clipboard before heading towards the oval. He tensed as he noticed Beclyn following him.

"So, it's Jason, huh?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow as Jason jumped in surprise.

"Most people just call me Coach, or Coach Teague," he replied.

"Coachie it is," Beclyn muttered.

Jason grimaced, mostly at the nickname but also at the fact that the person who had just tried to kill him was making small talk. "Look, Miss Jones…"

"Ever been to Paris?" Beclyn suddenly inquired. "You know, recently?"

"Frankly, that's none of your business," he told her, grinding his teeth in frustration as he opened the door to the outside oval. He stood back to hold it open for her. She didn't budge. "Ladies first," he pressed, pointing to the oval.

She stepped outside, her eyebrow raised sceptically.

Jason closed the door behind him before saying, "The class usually uses this time for football training." He tilted the clipboard towards three girls sitting in the grandstand beside the oval. Two were painting their nails while the other was texting. "You can use this time to work on your assignments." He was about to turn away, but stopped as Beclyn grabbed his shoulder.

"I don't want to do assignments," Beclyn told him, crossing her arms. "I want to play."

Jason rubbed his nose, hiding a smirk. "You know how to play football?" he questioned disbelievingly.

"Never played, but it can't be that hard," Beclyn answered with a shrug, matching his smirk. "After all, you know how to play it."

Jason's smirk vanished. "Fine," he stated snappily. "Get onto the oval. I'll introduce you to the class before we play." He didn't wait before turning and trotting towards the restless group of boys shoving each other around at the sidelines.

"Alright, listen up!" Jason yelled over the class, waiting for the group to fall quiet. "We've got a new member on the class team today, so…"

Beclyn appeared at the edge of the group, her leather jacket discarded near the grandstand.

"It's a chick!" someone groaned loudly.

"Man, does this mean we don't get to tackle?" another person moaned.

"That's right," Jason affirmed, opening his clipboard. "It'll be an easy game today. Get the football to your goal posts. No tackle, only touch. Oh, Beclyn?" He turned to her, making sure he singled her out as the only girl of the group. "Tell me if it gets too rough for you, okay?"

Several jeers and taunts flitted around the group of boys.

Ignoring the death glare he received from Beclyn, Jason announced, "Let's go play this game!"

He was going to show Beclyn Jones that he wasn't ready to accept her into his or his girlfriend's life.

- - -

Jason blew the whistle to signal half-time. He watched as the guys groaned and jogged back to the sidelines, fanning their sweaty shirts in order to allow some air against their skin. Beclyn jogged in second-to-last, her face red from the heat. So far Beclyn had exceeded Jason's expectations. He had pushed the class extra hard through the warm-ups and first half of the game, but Beclyn had somehow managed to keep up. Instead of running out of energy like Jason had expected, Beclyn had become more intense and angry throughout the game. Jason even had to blow the whistle at one stage when she had tackled instead of touched to get the ball.

"You're doing a great job, team," Jason announced as the last player, a scrawny kid named Giles, joined them. "I'm seeing some fantastic arm action, Harold, but I need to see more stability and strength from you, Sean," he pointed out, making sure not to meet Beclyn's stare.

"I've got more strength than Giles the Git," Sean responded under his breath, smirking as a few guys sniggered in agreement.

Jason pretended to ignore the comment by glancing at his watch. "Alright, we've got just enough time for the last half." He looked at Beclyn. "You sure you're okay to play another half?"

A few more sniggers directed at Beclyn.

"I could go all day, Coachie," Beclyn responded.

Most of the guys turned to Jason, their faces twisted in amusement at the nickname he had been dubbed.

Jason's eye twitched. She wasn't going to get away with mocking him in front of the class. "You're going to be centre, Jones. You fumble the ball and you're on the bleachers, got it?"

More sniggers as Beclyn narrowed her eyes at him.

"Alright, let's go out there and finish this game!" Jason called.

He turned away before anyone could witness his spiteful smirk. Beclyn wouldn't be able to handle the pressure of being centre. All she needed to do was fumble the ball, and it gave him enough of an excuse to sit her out for the rest of the term.

Finally composing himself enough to wander over to the sidelines, Jason announced, "Ready? Playing in one… two…"

It happened too quickly for Jason to realise. One second he had the whistle in his mouth ready to blow, the next he was watching as Beclyn stood, smacking her fist into the quarterback's face.

"Jones!" Jason roared, running onto the field as Beclyn threw a few more punches at the quarterback's head. The other players hustled around the fight, tossing up whether to restrain Beclyn or cheer her on.

"Move it!" Jason ordered, shoving slower guys out of his way. He pushed into the ring that had formed around the centre and quarterback.

"You fucking son-of-a-bitch!" Beclyn screamed, launching herself at the cowering quarterback.

Blood gushed from the quarterback's nose as he tried his best to protect himself from her flying fists.

Grabbing Beclyn's arm, Jason pulled her into a tight grip to restrain her. She hissed and spat, kicking wildly for release.

"Oh, fuck… Is this blood?" the quarterback moaned, touching his nose. He turned to one of the other guys. "Is my nose broken? Does this look broken to you?"

Jason ignored his whimpering groans as he pulled Beclyn away from the group towards the sidelines. As they approached the boundary of the field, Beclyn shoved him away and furiously paced a few steps. He didn't think it was possible, but Beclyn seemed twice as angry as she'd been with the blade less than an hour earlier.

"You want to tell me why you just hammered my quarterback?" Jason demanded, watching as Beclyn spat on the ground.

"_He touched me_," Beclyn seethed, facing away from Jason.

"Of course he touched you!" Jason replied, trying to keep his tone even. "It's the point of the game!"

"_No_," Beclyn hissed, swivelling to face him. She pointed to her chest. "_He. Touched. Me_!"

Jason paused, startled. He bit his lip, clutching his clipboard. "I'm sure it was just an accident. These things happen…"

"If it was such an '_accident_' then why was he reaching for my breasts with one hand and in between my legs with the other?" Beclyn demanded, taking a few ragged breaths.

Jason's jaw fell open, agape. The idea of a female student being sexually harassed on the field had never occurred to him, nor was it covered in his college lectures. "Are you sure?" he finally stammered.

Beclyn raised an eyebrow.

Letting out a hiss, Jason muttered, "Look, I'm sorry about what he did. Would you like to speak to a guidance counsellor, or…"

"I'll sit down for a few minutes," Beclyn told him firmly. "But I want that asshole to be punished." She turned and left before he could reply.

Jason rubbed his forehead, frustrated. The only fair way he could think to discipline the quarterback was to sit him out for the rest of the season. That would definitely remove any plus points he had with the football team, and the chances of winning the season. On the other hand, brushing off the incident was sure to horrify Lamae if word made its way back to her.

Sighing, he turned back to the quarterback clutching his bleeding nose.

"Walk it off," he ordered in a snarl, "and consider yourself on the bench for the rest of the season!"

- - -

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**So Jason lives for the time being. I felt really bad putting up this chapter because when someone reviewed for the last chapter they said they firmly believed it was either going to be Lamae or Clark who walks in. Well, there goes the cliff hanger for them. People are just too cluey these days, or are my cliff hangers that transparent XD ? Anyway, I have a few more surprises locked away. Oh, and as a warning for future chapters – this story is going to get super heavy. Deadly Betrayal is going to look like a fairytale compared to this story. **

**Can I ask for reviews as Christmas presents? Please?**

**Oh, and if anyone is artistic out there in the anime department I wouldn't mind talking to you about drawing a few character drawings for the characters of this story. Send me a message if you're interested *steals Sam's puppy-dog eyes*. **


	7. Chapter 7

**WAHH! I'm sorry! It's been a while since I updated. There's nothing I can really say except that I've been slack over the holidays. I haven't had a Supernatural fix in over three months now so I'm desperate to watch the new episodes. **

**I feel awful for not updating in so long. I'll promise I'll make it up to you by giving you a good chapter next week. Did anyone say cheerleader ass-kicking? **

**Sorry if this chapter has mistakes. I think my beta was drunk when she was correcting this. She honestly corrected "...she received from the Winchester brothers..." as "... she as they slammed looks he Winchester bros...". I think I may have to talk to her about her drinking problem --unhappy face--.  
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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 7**

Beclyn barged through the motel door, a huge sneer of a grin across her face. She ignored the bewildered gazes she received from the Winchester brothers as she slapped a massive pile of papers on the scarred tabletop.

"Here's all the info we need to get the school's ghost," she proclaimed triumphantly.

Dean's eyes narrowed, his expression stern. "Where were you?" he demanded.

Beclyn faltered. "What?"

"We went to pick you up from school this afternoon and you weren't there," Dean hissed furiously. "I've been calling you since four o'clock! Do you know what time it is?" It had been dark outside for several hours.

"I sent you a text-thingy," Beclyn responded curtly.

"You know how to send a text?" Sam asked sceptically.

"Lamae did it for me," she answered quickly before turning back to Dean. "I just went to Lamae's work after school. It's this bookstore which has all these books on paranormal stuff because her employer – Rex Laythur, or whatever his name is – uses them for research. I swear, this place was packed with all these ancient notes and stuff about this ghost that originated in Japan and…"

Dean sniffed loudly as he said, "You're really becoming best friends with this Lamae-chick, aren't you?"

"Dean…" Sam began.

"I told you to leave this gig alone. We don't have time to be racing after some adolescent, hormonal…"

"That's the thing," Beclyn interrupted, jabbing at the sheets with her finger. "Lamae reckons this thing is a Japanese spirit hell-bent on getting revenge. Apparently this thing died in unjustified circumstances and came back to get vengeance. Problem is that if for some reason it can't get its revenge, then it's stuck on the living plain and wreaks havoc until it gets what it wants."

"So this thing is like the Kayako or Samara of Smallville, and it's going to just keep attacking people?" Sam asked nervously.

Beclyn blinked, confused at the pop culture reference. "Sure, whatever, and not only that but it is easily influenced, meaning that demons could have struck a deal with it, which would explain why it's in Kansas and why it was trying to find me," she continued.

Like the Winchesters, Beclyn had made a name for herself within the demon realms of society. Being a hunter almost guaranteed that your name was on the demon hit-list, but for Beclyn it had more sinister roots…which, unfortunately, she couldn't remember. All that she knew was that if demons were to get a hold of her somehow, she wouldn't last long.

Locking eyes with Dean, Beclyn stated, "These things have been known to get very nasty _very_ quickly. If we leave this gig alone then all those students could lose their lives."

Letting out a sigh, Dean turned away. "If you're really that desperate to get this gig done then I can call around and get a few other hunters in to kill this thing."

Biting his lip, Sam pointed out, "But we're right here. Beclyn's right. We should just…"

"No," Dean stated firmly, shaking his head. "If Beclyn's right then this thing knows who we are and it's after us. If it really is as dangerous as this Lamae-chick says, then we shouldn't go near it. Besides, you're too close to the victim. This is the most excited I've seen you about a gig _ever_. If anything goes wrong it would tear you apart, believe me."

Before anyone could object, Dean walked from the room and closed the door. Beclyn frowned. If that was Dean's idea of closing a negotiation, then he was in for a rude shock.

Sam sneered. "'_Too close to the victim_'. Dean used to sleep with any girl we managed to save. He has no right throwing that accusation at you."

Beclyn smirked. "So, Sam. Say this thing can't get its revenge. What would be the best way to kill it?"

- - -

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**Very short mini chapter. This is all my brain could come up with. I don't want to drag out this ghost thing for too much longer. I want to get to the real issues like Dean without a shirt and Jason having a shower and Sam walking out of the bathroom with a towel (I seriously play that clip from season one over and over in my head before I fall asleep each night). **

**I know it's not my place, but could I get a few reviews? … Please… ?**


	8. Chapter 8

**So it looks like I have this chapter in on time for once. I finally managed to watch the newer episodes of season 5. Could not stop cracking up at the body-switching one. Oh, and I went to see Daybreakers with a few friends. I didn't realize it was so gory. Going to see Wolfman next week. I really shouldn't be going to see horror movies in the cinema. I remember how relaxed I was when my friends told me I should see the Grudge. I've never looked at a black wig the same. **

**Happy Valentine's day to everyone. Or International Depression Day as I used to call it in school. That was before I got a boyfriend. Now I'm just poor around this time of year because I try to match what he gets me. He got me Supernatural Season 4 this year. Gotta love a boyfriend who will buy you a series starring your television crush.  
**

**Warning: Contains violence, swearing, supernatural themes, adult themes. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Smallville, but I do own Dean, Sam and Jason. They've been locked up in a secret room within my house. I'm considering lending them out to fangirls. **

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 8**

Lamae bit her wobbling lip as she whispered, "So Dean's not letting you hunt the ghost?" Her shoulders slouched, depressed. "What do I do if it attacks somebody else?"

Slamming her locker shut, Beclyn corrected, "I said that Dean told me I couldn't hunt the ghost. That doesn't mean I'm not going to go and do it behind his back."

Several people shoved past as they made their way to extra-curricular activities. Each Friday, the last period was set aside for sports activities, music bands and other groups. While Lamae usually spent the hour and a half running errands for the Torch – or more specifically Chloe – she hoped they would be able to spend some time together discussing what they had uncovered about the ghost.

"I don't want to get you into trouble," Lamae said hesitantly, although her shoulders had lifted.

Beclyn rolled her eyes. "It's just Dean," she muttered with a sigh. "What's he gonna do – ground me?"

"Can he do that?" Lamae asked, leaning her shoulder against the lockers. She winced as pain shot through her side. Getting thrown into a row of lockers by a cheerleader hurt more than she would have expected.

"He can try," Beclyn sneered. "Maybe if I break a few of his bones, he won't be so cocky."

"Guys!" a voice called, accompanied by running footsteps.

Lamae turned, her worried expression morphing into a welcoming smile. "Hi," she greeted as Clark appeared with an enthusiastic grin.

Clark returned the greeting, then turned to Beclyn expectantly.

"Hey…" Beclyn started, her face screwing up in concentration as she tried to put a name to the face, "… Cameron?"

His enthusiastic grin fell slightly. "It's Clark." Shaking off the mistake, he said, "I was looking for you guys. Chloe sent me to see if Beclyn was coming this afternoon."

Raising an eyebrow, Beclyn turned to Lamae and mouthed, "_Who the hell is Chloe_?"

"Beclyn is thrilled to be joining the Torch. Right, Beclyn?" Lamae beamed. She ignored Beclyn's glare.

"That's great!" Clark said gladly, but noticed Beclyn's not-so-thrilled expression. His smile twitched as he tried to find an escape route. Giving a wave, he said, "I'll be hanging around for a bit before going to my football training."

"See you later, Clark," Lamae replied, returning the wave as he turned to run back the way he came.

The moment he disappeared around the hallway, Beclyn hissed, "Damn. I was so sure his name was Cameron."

Lamae suddenly let out a high-pitched shriek. She blushed as Beclyn turned to raise an eyebrow at her.

"I forgot to grab the game scores from Jas- I mean, Coach Teague," she spluttered. Turning to run down the hall, she cried, "Tell Chloe I'll be there in a few minutes!"

"Hey, wait!" Beclyn called to her, but was ignored as Lamae continued to make her getaway. Shaking her head, she grabbed her bag, then hesitated. How was she supposed to tell Chloe anything if she didn't know where or what the Torch was?

"Brilliant," she snarled.

- - -

It had taken a while for Beclyn to get directions to the right room. The first pimply teenager she'd approached had practically squealed and run in the opposite direction, while the jock she had found wandering the halls couldn't take his eyes off her chest for a second; he gesticulated with hands that looked as if they were cupping two large coconuts.

Letting out an aggravated sigh, she surveyed the room. Noticing the mess scattered around the sparsely furnished room, she wondered again if she'd made it to the right place. It looked as if a cyclone had torn through the room. Hissing, she turned to find another idiot to ask directions from, but instead almost ran head-on into a blonde-haired girl.

"Oh, wow, I am so sorry," the girl said quickly, a bunch of files clasped tightly in her arms. She paused for a second, her face twisting in recognition. "Holy cow, what faze did you jump out of?"

Beclyn cocked an eyebrow as the girl waltzed into the room and dropped the pile of files onto an already overloaded desk.

Turning back to Beclyn, the girl smiled and said, "I know you said you wanted to do something different and I like the contacts, but don't you think dying your hair black is a bit too nineties?" Her eyes drifted downward to her chest. A blush crept across the girl's cheeks. "Well, you've certainly gotten… bigger…"

"Chloe?" Clark's voice called from the hallway. Before she could answer, Clark appeared in the doorway.

The girl, which Beclyn suddenly realised was Chloe, said, "Ah, the fabulous sports star finally arrives."

"Come on, Chloe. You know that I always put the Torch first," Clark countered. Before Chloe could reply, he said, "I see you've met Beclyn."

Chloe followed Clark's line of vision to Beclyn. Her mouth fell open slightly, stunned. "Beclyn?"

"We were just getting acquainted," Beclyn said snidely. Crossing her arms, she sneered, "So which _faze_ did you say I came from again?"

Her mouth snapping shut, Chloe quickly pivoted to face Clark. "So if Beclyn's here, where's Lamae?" Placing her hands on her hips, she said, "We don't have time to be slacking off. The special Halloween edition of the Torch is due next week and we don't even have a main article!"

Beclyn's eyebrows knotted together. It had taken her a while to find the room. Surely Lamae would have managed to get the game scores in that time.

"Lamae's grabbing the game scores off Coachie. I'll check what's taken her so long," Beclyn announced, swishing on her heel before anyone could object. She let out a hiss as she almost hit _another _person.

"Oh, my God. I know I'm late so don't start screaming at me, cous'," the girl said with an annoyed sigh. "The coffee machine is a piece of junk so I had to order my coffee twice before…" The girl paused, her eyebrow cocking as she caught sight of Beclyn. She pointed a finger at Beclyn's hair. "Black?"

"Dark brown," Beclyn corrected in a snarl, pushing the girl from her path.

She didn't wait around to see the girl's gobsmacked expression. Instead, she swung her bag over her shoulder and tore along the hallway. There was no way in hell she would spend the afternoon with those freaks. She was sick of startled expressions and getting confused with Lamae. She would have thought by the third day that the entire school knew the difference. All she wanted to do was grab Lamae, toss her in Chloe's direction then continue a solo ghost hunt around the school.

Beclyn found Jason's office tucked near the shower rooms. She had to roll her eyes as she passed the shower room doors. Several cheerleaders were standing just inside the doorway, squealing in delight as jocks tried to pinch the towels from their semi-naked bodies. It made Beclyn thankful that the whole 'high school' experience was only temporary for her.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Beclyn raised her fist to knock on Jason's door. She faltered, then shrugged. Lamae had been in there far too long. Her lips twitching in a smirk, Beclyn gave the door a hard shove. It only took a moment for Beclyn to see Jason's arms wrapped around Lamae's waist and her kissing his lips.

"He-hem?" Beclyn interrupted loudly.

The couple flew apart. Jason's jaw gaped open, his hands clenched at his sides. Lamae's face twisted into a horrified expression, blushing as her eyes filled with terror.

Beclyn frowned. "I thought you guys would have been naked by now."

"Beclyn…" Lamae started, her voice cracking.

Jason stepped forward, his face pale. "We can explain…" he began.

"You should learn to lock the door," Beclyn scolded, glaring at the couple. "Anyone could have walked in here and seen you making out."

Jason squared his shoulders as he hissed, "Now listen. You tell anyone about this and…"

Lamae swished around to face him, silencing him with a pleading glance. She swallowed nervously, turning back to Beclyn. "It's not what you think," she whispered hoarsely, her voice quivering.

"Yeah," Beclyn said with a sigh, already backtracking through the door and down the hallway, "like I haven't heard that one before."

"Beclyn, wait!" Lamae called after her.

Beclyn didn't pause for a second, even as she heard Lamae's running footsteps catching up to her. She let out an exasperated hiss as Lamae grabbed her shoulder.

"Look, I get it. You're a student and he's a teacher. I really couldn't care less, so you can stop…" Beclyn faltered as she saw the tears flowing down Lamae's cheeks. Beclyn softened her tone as she muttered, "Aw, jeez, Lae…"

Lamae scrubbed at her eyes, trying to stop the tears. "It's… It's not what you think," she sobbed. "He wasn't a teacher when we m-met… If anyone f-finds out then… then… he'll be f-fired and I'll…"

"Yeah, I know. I'm guessing that's the Jason from Paris, right?"

Lamae nodded, sniffing with every breath.

Beclyn let out a sigh. "I'm not going to tell anyone. Just make sure you're more careful in future." She hesitated as a group of uniformed cheerleaders wandered from the shower rooms. A few girls cast glances in their direction, nudging others to share the sight. "You'd better get cleaned up," Beclyn ordered Lamae. "I'm going to the gymnasium to see if I can pick up any traces of the ghost." She turned around, making her way towards the cluster of spying cheerleaders.

"Oh, my Gawd," a shrill, giggling voice erupted from the group. "Is Makra _crying_?"

Sniggers and taunts filled the hallway, while a few girls pointed and flicked out their cell-phones to take pictures.

Beclyn ignored them, continuing forward.

"Here, get a picture of this," one of the girls announced, stepping around Beclyn and making her way to Lamae.

Lamae tried to hide her scarlet face as the girl sneered. "Gemma, please, I just want to…" she started, but let out a pained cry as the girl shoved her shoulder hard enough to make her fall.

"What are you going to do?" Gemma jeered, giving her a hard kick. "Are you gonna cry some more? Are you gonna tell on me like you used to?"

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed her from behind and rammed her into the wall. She let out a scream as fingers gripped her hair and smashed her head against the plaster. Her shrieks became a gurgled moan as blood began to pour from her nose and onto her uniform.

"Stop! Please stop!" Gemma cried, her arms flailing frantically, trying to defend herself from her attacker.

"Did you stop when she begged you to?"

"I'll stop! I promise I'll never touch her again!" she whimpered pathetically.

Gemma let out a gargled groan as her attacker extended her arm.

"How many fingers does it take to raise a pom-pom?"

The group of cheerleaders gasped in unison as a sickening crack sounded from one of her fingers.

Gemma's eyes widened in horror. "_My finger_!" she screamed, trying her hardest to pull her hand away. She let out a cry as she was twisted around so that her back thumped against the wall. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she gazed into the furious face of her attacker. Her eyes widened in confusion.

"Makra?" she gasped in shock.

"Guess again," Beclyn snarled, grabbing Gemma's head and cracking it against the wall.

"I give! I give!" Gemma wailed, clutching her finger in pain. "What do you want?"

Beclyn leaned forward, her expression malicious. "I want you to quit beating on my sister," she ordered, her voice low, threatening. "If I _ever_ catch you hurting her again, I'll snap your fucking legs off and shove them down your throat, got it?"

Gemma nodded weakly, blood trickling from her nose and down Beclyn's hand. She squealed as Beclyn shoved her towards the pack of cheerleaders. She tripped and fell. No one rushed forward to help her.

"The same goes for the rest of you," Beclyn warned, glaring at the other girls. "Let's see how many cheerleaders can do a star jump without any limbs!"

Letting out high-pitched shrieks of fear, the girls fled, only pausing long enough to grab the sobbing Gemma from the floor.

Beclyn waited until the girls had gone before she leant down to Lamae. "You okay?"

Lamae bit her lip, her eyes filled with a fresh set of tears.

"Come on," Beclyn muttered, heaving Lamae to her feet. She brushed off Lamae's clothes, quickly surveying the damage. "Those bitches are lucky they didn't leave bruises. I would have ripped out their throats if they did."

"I don't feel good…" Lamae mumbled numbly.

"You're in shock," Beclyn pointed out, giving her shoulders a warm rub. Letting out a sigh, she suggested, "Why don't you go tell Jason that you're not feeling all that great and take the rest of the afternoon off. If I see Chloe I'll tell her you came down with the plague or something."

Lamae offered a feeble smile. "Thanks."

Playfully messing up Lamae's hair, Beclyn said, "Don't worry about it, kiddo. What are sisters for?"

- - -

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**Whoot! Cheerleader-bashing for the win! Don't even THINK that's the end of the cheerleader VS Beclyn scene. What would high school be without the cat fights and bitch sessions? **

**I love reviews. They're the rainbow of my world. Please review. I don't even mind flames.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I woke up this morning to find this gigantic spider on my wall. I sort of gave this yelping shriek and fell off my bed. I called my boyfriend to ask what I should do and he made this sigh as if he were saying, 'Girls. What can you do with them?'. I hung up on him and ended up shooing this spider behind my cupboard. Out of sight, out of mind. **

**I'm sorry this chapter is up so late. Uni has been eating my soul and my beta has announced that she's going on another holiday. **

**Warning: Swearing, violence, adult themes**

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 9 **

Beclyn waited for over an hour for the gymnasium to empty. The cheerleaders had claimed their territory over near the stage, and had made a point to shoot her nasty glares while she waited. Other sports groups had come and gone, including a few guys who'd spent most of their 'training session' chatting up the giggling cheerleader idiots. Beclyn had spent the time going over countless floor plans of the school. Sam had printed out a detailed set of blueprints, showing entrances, stairwells and air ducts – all behind his brother's back, of course.

Sighing, she rolled up the last floor plan and shoved it in her bag. It had gotten late; night darkened the tiny windows. Dean would be angry that she hadn't called. She had considered sending him a text, but couldn't figure out how.

Beclyn scowled as the last of the cheerleaders wandered past, noses in the air. The moment they thought she was out of hearing range, they chatted away about shoes, parties and new dresses. Beclyn sneered. The biggest problem those bimbos had was looking fat in their uniforms.

Standing, she flicked out her EVP sensor and clicked a button. The red lights flickered for a moment, emitting a long, laborious beep. Batteries were dying. Trust Sam to give her the old piece of junk. Discarding the EVP sensor, she instantly set to work. She checked the ground, windows, vents and doorways for sulphur, tested the temperature for cold spots, examined any strange markings and took a sound recording for any unheard noises. She was just about to listen to the voice recording when a sharp knock on the gym doors startled her.

Jason glared at her from the doorway, his arms crossed defensively. Beclyn frowned back at him, wondering if Lamae had passed on the fact that she wasn't going to turn the couple in.

"Gym closes in ten," he stated, his voice thick with distrust.

Beclyn narrowed her eyes at him. She would stay as long as it took to get the job done. Jason's gaze flickered over the voice recorder in her hand. Sniffing rudely, he walked away.

"Asshole," Beclyn muttered, plugging in the headphones to the voice recorder. Leaning back against the wall, she clicked the play button and closed her eyes. She listened intently, concentrating on finding any strange or mysterious noises.

She didn't notice the dark stain spreading across the wall. It oozed like a foul, black fluid as hair began to materialise. A stick-like body formed, its gaping mouth a deep, dark hole. The light in the gymnasium dimmed and flickered out. Falling to the ground, the figure approached Beclyn, surveying her. Two long, grotesque arms reached from the darkness, almost touching her flesh.

Beclyn's eyelids twitched.

For the last few minutes she'd only heard static and clunking noises as she had moved things around the room. Now there was a different noise on the tape, something so subtle that she thought she had missed it.

She raised a hand to her headphones, listening harder to the static. Her brow furrowed. Something was cracking on the tape – or more like _breaking_. It was the sound of scratching, like something scraping against cement. She rewound the tape back a few minutes and listened again.

There was definitely something breathing on the tape. She could hear it moving. She tried to picture what Lamae had described. Something foreign, bottom half of the torso removed, bloody, menacing. She could picture its bones cracking in strain as it forced itself to move, its long, disgusting fingernails scratching against the floor. Her heart started pounding. This _thing_ was hissing something as it moved. She couldn't quite make out the words, but she was almost certain it was her name.

Her eyes shot open. Darkness engulfed her. She paused, wondering when Jason had turned off the lights. The tape continued to play in her ear, the hissing voice becoming louder on the tape. She clicked the off button.

"_Beclyn!_" something rasped near her ear.

Beclyn jumped, the recorder falling to the floor. She squinted into the darkness, perspiration dotting her forehead. Reaching out a hand, she instantly retracted it. It wasn't a dark room she was looking at – it was a swirling mass of black hair. She opened her mouth to scream. The hair froze, then lunged at her, forcing itself down her throat.

Coughing, Beclyn grabbed at the hair, trying to tear it from her mouth. She spluttered as it pooled in her stomach, tearing at her insides. Blood dribbled down her chin; her eyes watered as she frantically fought the onslaught.

"_Beclyn... Beclyn Jones... Beclyn…_" the voice continued to rasp, a taunting edge to its tone as the trickle of blood thickened to a gushing stream down Beclyn's front.

Beclyn's knees buckled, her lungs starved of oxygen. She scratched at the floor, trying to find something, anything to defend herself with. Her vision began to fade. The hair in her throat was too thick to scream. There was too much blood.

Her head hit the floor, and everything went black.

- - -

Lamae clenched and unclenched her fingers, her heart thumping fast. The hospital bustled with life; beeping equipment, bright lights and terse conversations flooded her senses. Her stomach clenched with anxiety over Beclyn's condition.

She had invited Beclyn into the school. She had begged her to help. She was the reason why Beclyn now lay in the emergency ward at the hospital.

Lamae jumped as a hand squeezed her shoulder. She turned, meeting Jason's concerned gaze.

"She'll be okay," Jason told her, though the lie was obvious.

Giving a shaky smile, Lamae tried to nod.

Jason was about to smile back when he glanced towards the automatic glass doors, his face twisting in confusion. "What the hell?" he muttered, stunned.

Lamae spun around, her mouth falling open as she watched two men dash towards the front desk. She glanced at Jason, making sure he was still behind her. A twin version of Jason was demanding the number of Beclyn's ward from the nurse. A taller man with longer hair spotted Lamae from across the room. He tapped Jason's lookalike on the shoulder, gesturing to them. The man narrowed his eyes, his jaw set as he began to march across the room. Lamae rushed to greet him, her lip quivering.

"You're Lamae?" Jason's lookalike inquired roughly.

Lamae nodded, lost for words. He looked like Jason, but more rugged, with a leather jacket and frayed jeans.

"Jason Teague," Jason suddenly cut-in, holding out a hand to be shaken. His expression was stern. "I was the teacher who found Beclyn."

Lamae watched as the man's eyes widened in surprise as he noticed the similarities. He shook Jason's hand quickly. "Dean Winchester. This is my younger brother Sam."

The taller man nodded in greeting as he asked, "How's Beclyn doing?"

Jason hesitated, his gaze slipping to Lamae as if he didn't want to worry her. "She's…" he started, swallowing nervously while he tried to find the right words. "She's lost a lot of blood. The doctors say she's in a stable condition but wouldn't tell us what her injuries are."

Sam ran a hand through his hair, continuing to glance at his brother. "Any idea how long it is until she's released?"

Jason fell silent.

Lamae stood forward. "I'm really sorry about all of this," she stated, her voice shaking. "I asked Beclyn to help. If there's anything I can do…"

"I told Beclyn not to go after this thing," Dean hissed, worry etched into his tone. "I told her this was too big. This thing is one hell of a ghost – even for us."

Jason blinked. "Ghost?" he asked, frowning at Lamae.

"It's a long story," she told him quickly, before turning back to Dean. "She told me that it would be fine. She seemed to have it under control…"

Dean rolled his eyes disbelievingly. "Yeah, she really had it under control when she had her ass handed to her…"

"Saying shit about me again?" a voice interrupted.

Lamae whirled around, a wide, relieved grin spreading across her face. "Beclyn!" she cried out.

Beclyn limped into the waiting room. Her skin was pale and her eyes were bloodshot. She didn't look nearly stable enough to be standing, but it didn't stop Lamae from crash-tackling her in a hug. Beclyn wheezed as Lamae tightened her grip.

"Let go of me, Lae," Beclyn scolded with a smirk, trying to untangle herself. "You're acting like I nearly died."

"We thought you were going to," Sam pointed out, going in for a hug.

Beclyn raised her hand, pushing him away before he could wrap his arms around her. "I'm alive – big deal. Now let's get out of here before the doctors realise I've made a run for it."

"Not before we talk first," Dean hissed, no trace of comfort or relief in his voice. He stepped forward, grabbing Beclyn's shoulder in a secure grip. "You went after it, didn't you? After everything I said…"

Beclyn shrugged off his hand, her eyes narrowing. "You should be thanking me," she snarled, crossing her arms. "I proved that this thing kills people. What if I hadn't taken on this case and it killed a kid, huh? What if…"

Dean barked out a laugh, his fingers clenching at his sides. "'_What if'_? We're standing in a hospital and you're saying 'what if'?" His laugh tuned down to a low chuckle. He lifted a hand, giving a mock-casual gesture as his eyes hardened. "Let me think…" he started, the words barely audible through his clenched teeth, "You were alone in a room hunting this thing."

Beclyn rolled her eyes, ready to snap something in retaliation. Dean raised his hand, cutting her off.

"You didn't bother to call or text to say where you were, and you completely ignored my warnings about what this thing could do to you…" Dean rubbed his brow, his lips stretching in a pained smile. "I've tried understanding what you see in this gig. I've tried reasoning with you. I've tried stopping you. So what if…" He paused as his words broke.

He swallowed, his hand moving away for a moment to reveal the water filling his eyes. "What if no one had come along and seen you? What if they came too late? What if you couldn't be saved?" he asked in a taut whisper.

His lips trembled. "If any of those 'what ifs' had happened, I wouldn't be standing here in the entranceway, Beclyn…" Dean's shoulders crumpled as he muttered, "… I'd be standing in the morgue."

Without hesitating, he spun around, marching out of the hospital. Sam blinked, his gaze wavering between Beclyn and the door.

"I believe that was the Dean Winchester version of 'I love you'," he mumbled. Glancing at the others, he said, "I'd better go see if he's okay."

Lamae stood in the middle of the entranceway, her heartbeat loud in her ears as she watched Sam dash after his brother. She chanced a look at Beclyn, who was glowering at the door. Lamae felt a hand fall onto her shoulder.

"We have to get going soon," Jason told her, his voice raw.

Giving a slow nod, Lamae turned to Beclyn. "We should forget about the ghost," she admitted, her gaze falling to the floor in shame. "You have to be with the ones you love. You could have died and I can see that Dean …" She let out a cry as Beclyn grabbed the front of her jacket tightly. Lamae's blood froze as she met Beclyn's glare.

"_We finish this_," Beclyn seethed, her eyes wide in an almost insane fury, "_tonight_."

- - -

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**Why have I only been receiving one review for the past few chapters? Is this story really that boring?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry this one is so late out. I swear I came down with some sort of crazy version of swine flu and my beta fell of the face of the Earth again. My brain is spinning with punctuation and grammar from my last few assignments. Also, my beta's birthday is coming up. Big 19! I'm hoping she doesn't get drunk like she did on her last birthday. She's crazy when it comes to drinking. She's the only chick I know who likes guzzling straight vodka. **

**Warning: violence, adult themes**

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Deadly Secret

Chapter 10

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Lamae asked for the tenth time as she smoothed a Velcro strap against the wall, attaching a high-powered light bulb to it. "I mean, how can we be sure this thing hates light?"

Beclyn didn't bother rolling her eyes as she quickly smacked the straps onto the plaster. Her eyes were tired from squinting down the unlit school halls, keeping watch in case the ghost decided on a surprise attack. She flexed her back, feeling the muscles ache.

"Do you think these things will turn on like it says in the instructions?" Lamae continued, poking at one of the bulbs. "These use a lot of power, and the school can barely manage to power a few printers, let alone light up an entire…"

"_Lamae_," Beclyn snapped in a warning tone, glowering at her twin. If she knew Lamae was going to be so talkative then she would have blackmailed Sam to come along instead. "We have to get rid of this thing and we know that it loves the dark, so…"

"So we just take away all the darkness?" Lamae paused, surveying the hallway lined with bulbs. "What if we just make it cranky and it tries to kill us?"

"I'm counting on it," Beclyn muttered under her breath, patting the bag of weapons and ammo on her back. She took a step back from the wall, checking everything was in order. She jumped and swung around as she felt a hand latch onto her shoulder. Lamae grinned back at her.

"I've been meaning to ask what Dean thinks about you coming out here tonight," she said, pulling her hand away.

Beclyn shrugged. "He's alright for now."

Lamae's eyes widened. "He just let you out, even after everything he said at the hospital?"

"Nup," Beclyn pulled the bulb switch out of her backpack, loading it with batteries. "I bet he's going to be absolutely pissed off when he finds out I'm not in the bedroom."

"You _snuck out_?" Lamae gaped.

Beclyn raised an eyebrow. "What else was I supposed to do? Besides, what did you say to Jason? '_Just going out to kill a murderous ghost_?'"

Hesitating, Lamae bit her lip. "I told him I was going to study for a while, but snuck out the front door instead."

"Oh, and _I'm_ the one who did the bad thing."

Taking the switch from Beclyn's hand, Lamae said, "Let's just get this over and done with."

"Fine with me." Beclyn snatched the switch back. "On the count of three, this school is turning into a thousand-bulb Christmas tree. Ready?"

Lamae swallowed nervously, then nodded as she began the countdown. "One..."

"Ah, stuff it," Beclyn growled, slamming her finger down on the switch.

The sharp crackle of electricity surged along the hall as the lights flickered to life. Beclyn squinted, feeling her eyes water under the harsh light. It was only a few short moments, however, before the lights sputtered out, tossing the girls into darkness.

"Did we break it?" Lamae asked from beside her.

"Let me check." Beclyn hit the button again.

The hall lit up for only a split second, but both the girls saw the gigantic, dark form of the ghost as it rushed towards them from the end of the hall. Instantly grabbing for the backpack, Beclyn heard Lamae shriek as hair swiped at them from all directions. Her hand closed around a bag of salt.

Throwing it in Lamae's direction, Beclyn ordered, "Make a circle! Keep it from getting…"

The air was knocked from her lungs as something struck her chest. She sailed across the hall, slamming into a wall.

"Beclyn!" Lamae cried out, scrambling around in the dark.

"We need light…" Beclyn wheezed, her vision blurry. She tried to climb to her feet but a mass of hair pushed her back to the ground.

"_Beclyn… Jones…_" an echoing voice rasped from the darkness.

A small beam of light darted off the walls as Beclyn found a torch. Beclyn winced as the light flickered. Digging into her backpack, she pulled out an iron knife, slashing at the hair over her chest. Something screeched next to her ear.

"Are you okay?" Lamae's voice called from down the hall.

Beclyn detached herself from the pile of severed hair, tossing it aside as she used the wall for support. "Protect yourself with whatever you've got!" Beclyn yelled to Lamae.

"_Jones… Beclyn… Jones…_" the voice continued, lurking closer.

"You have to run!" Lamae screamed back at Beclyn. "It'll kill you!"

Beclyn bolted towards Lamae.

"_DEMON!_" the thing roared from beside her. Suddenly, hair flew from the walls, twisting into a rope.

"Get out of here!" Beclyn ordered, clasping onto Lamae's arm. "I'll hold it off!"

Lamae stood firm, her jaw quivering. "It's not after you…" she whimpered.

"What?" Beclyn snapped, trying to force Lamae back through the hall. She felt Lamae's fingers wrap around her wrist.

"It's not after you. It said it's after a demon," Lamae whispered, her hands shaking. "Which means it's after…"

Lamae abruptly fell as the rope of hair twisted around her leg. She lost her grip on Beclyn as it tugged sharply.

Beclyn watched, horrified, as Lamae's body was pulled along the floor in towards the auditorium's double doors.

"Lamae!" she called.

Lamae let out a scream as she was dragged through the doorway. Beclyn's eyes widened in fear as they slammed shut with a bang. She turned, ready to fight off the onslaught of hair, but hissed as she noticed it had disappeared. The ghost had concentrated all of its strength on capturing Lamae.

Beclyn's heart pounded furiously. She rushed towards the doors, grasping the doorhandles in her hands. Letting out a loud string of profanities when the doors wouldn't budge, she began pounding on them with her fists. A tight knot of terror clenched her stomach.

"Lamae!"

She hit the doors harder, not noticing the flesh being scraped from the sides of her fingers and palm.

"_Lamae_!"

Blood trickled from her hands onto the door. She was smashing the doors with all her might, oblivious to the pain all over her body.

Thirty seconds passed. A minute. Two minutes.

Beclyn heard running footsteps behind her and someone calling her name. Two hands grabbed her shoulders as Dean pulled her back. Sam rushed forward with a sledge hammer, trying to break the doors down. Jason stood by, his expression confused and worried.

Sam said something to Dean. Dean yelled something back and Sam started smashing the door with all of his strength.

"Lamae…" Beclyn mumbled, staring at the door. Nearly five minutes had gone past. Lamae would have been dead after two. Beclyn blinked. Lamae was dead. No way could she fight off that thing without any weapons. The horror penetrated her mind.

She had killed her sister.

"_LAMAE_!"

_- - -_

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**Yeah, and Lamae sort of meets a grizzly end. Have fun beating Samara/Grudge, Lae. **

**I have to give a big thank you to gypsywoman1 – she's the only one that picked up the mistake of me calling the EMF detector an EVP sensor in the last chapter. Blah! Dumb me! I had even been watching Ghosthunters and Ghost Adventures all day so I should've been completely down with my lingo. Anyways, tell me what you thought of this chapter. And yes, I know that it takes forever for me post chapters. I'm practically dead from uni. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, confession time. This chapter has been sitting in a folder for a fair while. My beta took ages to check it and once I got it I had to do a million assignments and forgot all about it. Uni has stolen and eaten my soul. **

**I'm disappointed in the weather at the moment. Usually it would be so cold right now that you'd have to sniff the steam off your coffee to try and defrost your nose. Instead I've got Summer weather. As in, fans on high, people swimming at the beach, aircons turned on full. I hate global warming.**

**Warning: contains violence, swearing, adult themes.**

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 11**

Lamae heard the auditorium doors slam shut as the rope of hair dragged her into the room. She slid across the floor, frantically clawing at the ground. The dark hair swarmed around the room, obscuring the exits. Lamae lashed out, gasping in pain as the hair sliced into her skin. A choked cry escaped her throat as darkness spread across her vision. There was no light in the room. She was completely defenceless, and this thing wanted to tear her apart.

"Help!" she screamed at the closed doors, twisting onto her stomach to try and break free.

The ghost responded by tightening the grip around her leg.

Lamae winced. Any tighter and it would cut through the tendons and soft muscle. She bit her lip, hurriedly searching her mind for anything that could help her. She knew how to make fire with two sticks, but it was useless in an auditorium where chairs were the only things in reach.

The ghost's hair tied around her wrists, forcing them above her head. Lamae gritted her teeth as a trickle of her blood dripped onto her face. A gigantic, pale face loomed before her, a black, swollen tongue protruding from its mouth, swiping at the floor around her feet. A mixture of saliva and blood dripped from its sharp teeth, just waiting to sink into her body.

"Think," Lamae urged herself. The hair began to pull her towards the gruesome mouth. Lamae scrunched her eyes shut, forcing herself to open the door to the pile of memories she had firmly closed away.

A vague memory of her old school danced in her mind. She could see chairs, a blackboard, the teacher, and then…

"_This particular spell is used in the purification of spirits' souls. Most often used to appease the dead, it can also be used as a defensive spell…" the teacher prattled on, gesturing to the board._

"_What fucking bullshit," Mia sighed, tossing her pen onto the desk. "Like, when are we going to come across a fucking ghost? What sort of shit are we supposed to say? 'Hey, grandma. You've been looking kind of unappeased lately. Just stand there while I blast you into the next fucking dimension with my fucking heart.'" _

_Lamae bit the tip of her pencil as she glanced at the board. "I think it's sort of sad in a way," she muttered, careful not to gain attention from the teacher. "Imagine dying and not being able to move on, even when all of your loved ones have passed. I suppose you would get a little bit upset that there is nothing you can do and no one will ever love you again."_

_Mia rolled her eyes as she ran a hand through her short, black hair. "Oh, right. I forgot you were such a bleeding heart." Letting out a snarl, she continued, "Back in the day, witches got to blow shit up and be as evil as they wanted to be." She turned to Lamae with an excited gleam in her eye, "If I lived back then I would have so totally turned someone into maggots or caused a plague."_

"_Actually, witches were always a part of the land and preferred to heal and live placidly." Making a pointed expression from the extensive notes in her book to Mia's blank page, Lamae said, "Kind of like what we're supposed to be doing." _

"_Hey, you reckon they're gonna bring in a real ghost for the exam? You know, to actually kill?" Mia asked, her brown eyes twinkling. "I reckon that would be fucking sweet-as." _

"_Mia, you can't even watch horror movies, let alone face a ghost, and besides…" Lamae smiled innocently as she caught the teachers watchful eye, "… the school wouldn't put us up against anything dangerous."_

Lamae bit her lip, concentrating on the memory of the blackboard. What kind of spell was it? She had only ever cast one spell and that had been with…

"… _the school wouldn't put us up against anything dangerous…_"

Another memory, obscure and frightening, broke Lamae's concentration.

"_No, Mia, don't leave me!" Lamae screamed, slapping at the rotting, maggot-infested arms grabbing at her from all sides. She watched in horror as her best friend continued to swim away, not even bothering to help as the dead creatures pulled Lamae from the water. _

_Lamae squirmed, continuing to cry as one sniffed at her arm. She tried not o breathe as maggots sprayed from its nostrils onto her skin, a putrid stench wafting across her face. It bared its blackened teeth. There was a pause and then a tearing pain tore up Lamae's side as the thing sunk its jaw into her upper arm. _

"… _the school wouldn't put us up against anything dangerous…"_

Another memory, just as harsh as the one before, hit Lamae full-on.

"_We can't leave her like this!" Owen roared, slamming his fists onto his uncle's desk. "They're not trying to heal her – they're trying to find a reason to execute her!"_

_His uncle stood, a taut snarl tightening his lips. "What the hell do you think you're going to do, boy? She's not the same as you. You might think you have power just because your father was a monster, but let me remind you that they will kill you just for rebelling…" _

_Owen's hard eyes filled with rage. "We're people too, damn it! Lamae would never hurt anyone, but they're torturing her and saying that it's to help with her development. They won't even admit that they were the ones who fucked up in the first place!"_

"_Watch your tongue," his uncle snapped. "Do you know what will happen to a half-demon like you if they found out you were spitting vile comments about the establishment…"_

"_I don't care about me!" Owen hissed. "I care about Lamae. She's going to _die. _She can't stand going through what they do…"_

"_She is the first and only case of her kind. Just be thankful that she's still alive. At any moment her blood could corrupt and finish her off." _

"_Why are they putting her through all the pain, then? Are they scared because she's stronger than them? She's not half of what they say she is. She's not a werewolf, or a vampire, or a demon, or any of that other sorry shit they spout off." _

"_It's not our choice, Owen. It's her mother who makes the decisions and there's nothing we can do about that."_

Lamae's eyes opened slowly. She blinked, remembering her surroundings. She looked down, noticing that her feet were only inches away from being engulfed by the ghost. She didn't feel her heart rate quicken, didn't feel a rising sense of panic; she felt annoyed. After everything she had been through, getting eaten by a ghost was going to be her fate? Her lip twitched in amusement. Now that was a funny thought.

"_Demon ras varaeri…"_ she began the spell, picturing the blackboard in her mind.

The gigantic tongue tickled at the bottom of her feet, wiping blood over her shoes.

Lamae closed her eyes, feeling the air around her grow warm as she continued the spell.

The sole of her shoe tore as it grated against a tooth. It grazed her skin slightly, just enough to split the flesh. The mouth began to close.

"… _Avora minasvita doraemiona,"_ Lamae finished.

A green light burst from her chest, casting a harsh brightness across the room. The ghost screamed in agony, twisting and writhing as the light burned it away. Its eyes bubbled and melted, twin rivulets of clear-white goo sliding slowly down its withering face. The dark hair shrivelled, falling to the ground. Its claw-like fingers snapped, bursting into miniature flames as they fell to the ground. A few seconds later the thing had become nothing more than a small, black stain on the auditorium floor.

Lamae stared at the stain, rubbing her wrists. Giving a sniff, she pondered the mess for a couple of moments longer before a large grin appeared across her face.

"_I did it!" _she cried enthusiastically, clapping her hands in celebration.

She turned, bolting to the closed doors. Flinging her arms out, she opened them easily, startling Sam. She threw a glance at him, confused for a moment before she recognised him. She gave him a wave for a greeting before casting a look around the hallway for Beclyn. She caught site of her leaning against a wall for support, her damp hair draped across her face like a mask.

"Beclyn!" Lamae shrieked with joy, launching at her with a flying-hug.

Beclyn's eyes widened as Lamae's arms enclosed around her. Lamae pushed aside Beclyn's hair, giving her a playful tickle with the other hand. Beclyn frowned, unsure for a moment before shoving her away.

"_Don't you ever do that again!_" Beclyn snarled, her fists clenched in fury. "Do you know how worried I was? One moment you were right there and then the next moment you were getting pulled through the fudging auditorium doors!"

"Yay! You said 'fudging'," Lamae exclaimed, beaming.

"Hun, are you okay?" Jason asked from behind, wrapping her in a hug. "I got a call on my cell phone from these guys saying Beclyn had snuck out and you had probably gone with her."

Lamae's face fell. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I was going to tell you, but…" Her face brightened abruptly. "But that was totally _awesome!_ We were out here and then this rope-thingy got me, and then I was pulled into the auditorium, and there was this ghost with these big teeth and this massive tongue, and it was like, '_I'm going to eat youuu_', and then I was like, '_Ah! I'm so scared_!', and then I remembered this thingy, and there was this green light, and then it was, like, _gone_!"

She jumped excitedly, bubbling with energy. Turning to Sam and Dean, she said, "Let's do that again!"

Jaws falling open, Sam and Dean watched as Lamae grabbed Jason's wrist and pulled him along the hall.

"Come on, let's go find another ghost!" Lamae cried out, ignoring the shocked gazes. "I want to do that again, only this time I'm going to be all ninja!"

As the couple turned and disappeared down the hall, Beclyn approached the boys. Dean turned, but Beclyn beat him to the punch.

"Yeah, I get it. This was a stupid idea and I almost got us killed. I promise to listen to you from now on and blah, blah, blah," she seethed as she rolled her eyes. "Can we go now? This town is killing me."

Throwing Sam a shrug, Dean said, "Wait. There's one thing you've forgotten."

"Oh, yeah?" Beclyn growled. "And what's tha…"

Dean pulled her into a tight embrace as his lips met hers in a passionate kiss. His hand slid through her hair as he pulled her lips closer, taking in her scent. Sam watched on, his expression caught between disbelief and utter hilarity.

As the couple separated, Sam said, "It's about time you guys did that, but don't think I'm not telling Missouri, Sarah, Bobby…" He hesitated as Beclyn threw him a menacing glare.

Giving a deep, depressed sigh, she muttered, "I'm never gonna live this down."

- - -

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**Okay, this chapter may have introduced a few whacky fantasy elements. I mean, seriously – half-demons, witches and spells? This isn't Harry Potter, this is Dean and Sam fighting ghosts and almost getting eaten by wendigoes. I want it to be supernaturally spooky and gruesome, not 'wingardium leviosa' bullcrap. I love a bit of fantasy, but I usually draw the line somewhere around dragons and flying broomsticks. To sum things up, this story isn't fantasy, it's gory, cruel and it's going to leave a thick, choking lump in your throat. But, hey, I'm not as mean as to not put a few scenes of the boys in towels or naked. Think of it as sex education, kiddies.**

**Oh, and zombies aren't fantasy – they're ready and waiting for Z-day. Because they can totally do that with no brains and all. **

**Review and you can hear me rant further. **

**P.S: I don't hate Harry Potter. Well, I do have a particular dissatisfaction towards the boy who lived because he's a wimp for letting everyone else rule his life. But I did have an immense crush on the younger, teenage version of Tom Riddle. There's just something about psychopaths that gets me every time. **


	12. Chapter 12

**It has been far too long since I last updated. I've had assignment after assignment from uni and I have to do a prac course on top of it. I'm slowly returning to the realm of having a social life. **

**Warning: slight mentions of nudity**

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 12**

Jason closed his eyes, enjoying the hot spray of the shower on his back. Lamae had been chirpy the entire day, retelling the imaginative story of what she had supposedly suffered the night before. Jason had tried to smile and accept her ramblings, but there was no way he was letting her see Beclyn again. It was bad enough that she had snuck out, let alone had begun sprouting wild stories of ghost-hunting and near-death experiences.

Turning off the water, Jason glared at the wall. It wasn't until Beclyn had turned up that Lamae had become a dare devil of sorts. She had never lied, never broken his trust, had never wanted to do anything too _adventurous_, but less than a week after Beclyn had appeared she had undergone a drastic change. It couldn't be too difficult to have Beclyn step out of his territory. After all, how attached could Lamae be to a fake sister?

Grabbing a towel, Jason dried his hair as he stepped out of the shower. He paused, looking into the mirror. The fiasco the night before had left him with saggy, dark bags under his eyes and a fresh set of worry lines. Although he didn't believe Lamae's fictitious story about some ghost, he did believe she had been in some sort of danger. The mere thought of it was enough to make him shiver.

Once dry, he pulled on a pair of clean, new jeans and his favourite red shirt. Giving the bathroom a once-over to check that everything was neat, he opened the bathroom door. His mouth watered as the smell of freshly-baked cookies and garlic-infused roast derailed his train of thought.

Stepping through the kitchen door, he called, "Dinner smells fantastic, La…"

He faltered at the door frame, gazing at the massive tray of cookies on the bench. There must have been at least fifty cookies piled up, threatening to spill onto the floor.

"Lamae, are you doing a charity bake-off or something?" he asked loudly, looking around the kitchen, but she wasn't in sight. His gaze hesitated on the oven. A massive hunk of beef large enough to feed a family of ten was slowly cooking. Frowning, Jason reached for a cookie, wondering if his girlfriend had stumbled across a new diet scheme of sugar, fat and beef.

Just as his fingers were about to reach the tray, a voice cried out, "Don't eat that!"

Jason jumped, almost knocking the tray to the floor. "There you are," he said with a smile as Lamae stepped into the kitchen with a fresh tablecloth. Gesturing to the oven, he asked, "Is it our turn to feed a third-World country?"

"Not this week," Lamae answered with a grin as she lay the tablecloth across the table. "I asked the butcher how much meat I'd need to feed five people and he said that was the last one left, so…"

"What, are Clark and Lana coming over for dinner?" Jason moved across the kitchen to help straighten the tablecloth. As much as he liked Clark and Lana, he could never feel comfortable with them constantly throwing worried gazes at him, probably wondering if they were making the right choice about not reporting him for living with Lamae. Dating a student was tough work.

Lamae let out an amused sigh. "That would only be four people. Sometimes I wonder how you passed maths."

Jason's face twisted into confusion. "Who else would we invite…" He stopped, realisation dawning on him like running head-first into a solid brick wall. "You didn't," he muttered.

Lamae's grin widened.

Reaching out to use the table for support, Jason groaned, "You did."

"They seem like nice people," Lamae said pointedly, reaching forward to neaten his hair affectionately. "Sam was very friendly and Beclyn is incredibly funny. Besides, you and Dean will have something to talk about." She stepped back, admiring his hair. "It's not every day you get to meet your long-lost twin."

"He's not my long-lost twin, he's just some guy that happens to look like me!" Jason said with an exasperated sigh. "You should have asked me before you invited them to our home." Turning, he plucked the white cordless phone from the wall and held it out to Lamae. "Call them and tell them you've come down with something contagious."

Crossing her arms, Lamae frowned. "I'm not calling them, Jason."

Jason's jaw fell open. He had never seen her so stubborn. Quickly snapping his mouth shut, he said, "Then I'll call them and say that I've got too much work to do."

A loud, chugging sound suddenly filled the kitchen as a large, black car pulled into the dirt driveway.

"They're here!" Lamae exclaimed excitedly, bounding towards the front door.

Jason followed, reaching forward to pull her back, but she was too far ahead of him. Hesitating on the wooden front porch, he watched as Lamae headed for the car.

"You made it!" she called, staying clear of the opening car doors. Jason saw Beclyn climb out of the car.

"You could have told us you live in the middle of nowhere," she complained, stretching. "We almost missed the highway turn-off and this place is surrounded by trees…"

Lamae leapt at her with a hug. "This place is completely secluded. We even have a pond, a garden, and there's practically miles of trees before you hit the hay fields."

"We saw the hay fields," Sam told her from the other side of the car. "There must be acres of farming property farther out."

"Why live on a farm when you can hang around town and catch all the chicks?" Dean questioned as he climbed out of the front seat. He looked around for a moment before catching Jason's stare. "Howdy, there," he greeted.

Jason's eye twitched. "Hi," he answered shortly.

"You should see the interior," Lamae told Beclyn, pulling her towards the house. "We have new carpets and I repainted the bedroom myself."

"Sounds like a bundle of fun," Beclyn replied sarcastically, glancing back towards the car. "I told you we should've just gone to a pub."

Sam hurriedly followed them. "Actually, I need a few tips about painting…"

"I'll be with you in a bit!" Dean told them, opening the back seat to reveal a carton of beer.

Jason stood aside as Lamae, Beclyn and Sam scurried past, ignoring them as they chatted. He studied the car, pondering how much super glue it took to keep the heap of junk together. It may have been shiny on the outside, but the chugging sounds he'd heard from the exhaust earlier told him it was in anything but pristine condition. Besides, the boot looked like it could hide a corpse.

"You like cars?" Dean asked as he made his way up the steps, the carton of beer under one arm. Before Jason could answer, Dean swept his free arm around his shoulders. "1967 Chevy Impala. My pride and joy. This baby has carried us all around the country twice as many times as any other car of her year could." Beaming, he said, "Wanna go for a spin later?"

"No, thanks," Jason said with a sniff. "I like fast cars."

Dean's smile fell for a moment before returning. "Is it me, or do I smell cookies?"

Giving him a single clap on the shoulder, Dean disappeared, leaving Jason on the porch to consider the nightmarish evening awaiting him.

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**Wow. Exciting chapter. Almost nothing happened. Where's the danger and screaming? At least I have a mental image of Jason standing in the shower. That's enough to feed my fantasies for a few days.**


	13. Chapter 13

**I watched Paranormal Activity again last night. Am now avoiding staying up to the early hours of the morning. I would say more, but I'm hungry and want cookies.**

**Warning: mature themes.**

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 13**

Beclyn yawned, watching as Lamae bounced to and from the kitchen, bringing assorted treats and snacks. She sprawled across the couch, making it impossible for anyone else to sit.

Sam and Dean sat on the adjacent cream-coloured couch, nervously glancing around the room while picking at the food.

"You have a nice home," Sam told Lamae politely as she returned from the kitchen with a tray of cookies.

Throwing her gaze to the many furnishings of the room, Beclyn couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. The house was immaculate with expensive furniture and just enough photographs and memorabilia to be called a home. Her gaze caught a photo on the wall. It was Lamae and Jason, cheerily smiling at the camera with the Eiffel Tower looming behind them. Beclyn frowned. With Jason being a teacher and Lamae having a part-time job, she figured the couple would barely have enough funds to scrape through bills, let alone have enough to go overseas and live in luxury.

"Thanks," Lamae replied to Sam's comment, blushing slightly. "I stole half this stuff from my villa in Paris."

"You have a villa in Paris?" Dean asked disbelievingly.

"It's really my parents', but I was staying there for a while," she responded, holding out the tray of cookies. "Would you like a snack?"

The boys hesitated, eyeing the tray suspiciously. Beclyn rolled her eyes. It didn't surprise her that the boys didn't want to eat anything offered by her twin. After all, the last time Beclyn had spent time in the kitchen they had almost died of food poisoning.

"They're chocolate chip," Lamae pressed, inching the tray closer to Dean.

"Oh, wow," Dean said, trying to seem enthusiastic. "You know, I love eating cookies from time to time, but you see, my brother here has to be the biggest cookie fan there is…"

"Dean," Sam hissed under his breath, throwing a glare at his brother.

"When we were kids, Sam used to say he wanted to be the Cookie Monster. Isn't that right, Sammy?" Dean continued, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Lamae turned to Sam, swishing the tray to under his face. "Then you'd love these, Sam. I made them today from a recipe I found."

Beclyn sniggered on the other side of the room as Sam offered an uneasy smile. Taking a cookie from the tray, he placed it on his lap. He glanced at it, showing no signs of eating it. Lamae paused, waiting for him to take a bite.

"You'd better eat it, Sammy," Dean told him, not bothering to hide his amusement. "They taste best when they're warm."

"Dean, will you shut up?" Sam whispered nastily, making sure Lamae couldn't hear.

"What do you think?" Lamae asked, her smile morphing into a worried frown.

Sam glanced around the room, his face torn between smiling politely and frantically chewing his lip as he searched for a possible escape route. Finding none, he sighed and raised the cookie to his lips. Pausing for a moment, he bit into the cookie. He chewed for a few seconds, his expression apprehensive. He stopped, then swallowed.

"Oh, my God," he suddenly uttered. He turned to Dean, shocked. "These are good."

"What?" Dean demanded, caught off guard.

"I mean," Sam started, stuffing the rest of the cookie in his mouth before taking another, "these are good."

Dean blinked, stunned, before saying, "Give me one of those." He grabbed one off the tray then bit it in half. A moment passed before he turned to Sam. "Dude…"

"They're good, right?" Sam said, reaching for another cookie.

Lamae beamed as Dean leant forward and grabbed a handful off the tray.

"These are awesome," he told her, placing the mound of cookies on his lap.

"Don't do that," Sam scolded, his hand closing around another three. "You'll get crumbs over the couch."

"They're not going to last that long," Dean retaliated, stuffing one in his mouth.

Grinning, Lamae said, "I guess I'd better go get some more."

Dean reached forward, his fingers catching the edge of the tray. "You can leave that," he told her, nodding to the leftover cookies.

Placing the tray on the coffee table, she said, "I'll go get you those cookies."

Heading for the door, she almost ran into Jason. "Hey, hun," she greeted gladly. "I was just about to go get some more cookies. Would you like one?"

"Oh, now that I think about it, I think I may be a bit over in my calorie intake. I'll just stick with a coffee instead," he told her with a smile.

"One French-vanilla latte coming right up," she replied, turning to the rest of the room. "Does anyone else want anything to drink?"

"I'll have a beer," Dean answered, raising an eyebrow at Jason's order.

"Make that two beers," Sam added, turning to Beclyn and sceptically mouthing '_calorie intake?_'.

Beclyn sniffed. "Nothing for me."

Nodding, Lamae disappeared into the kitchen. A tense silence filled the room as everyone fell quiet.

"So, about the whole '_dating-a-student_' thing," Dean said after a minute of nervously chewing on the leftover cookies. "We're totally cool with it."

Sam glanced from his brother to Jason. "If you've thought about the repercussions, then it's fine," he joined in. "But you have to remember that she's still young and you're a bit more mature…"

"I met Lamae before I became a teacher," Jason stated firmly, leaning against a wall. "I didn't realize her age until we had been dating for almost a fortnight. Even then it wasn't a problem until we moved to Smallville."

"It's just that living together is a completely different step," Sam pointed out, biting his lip.

Dean held up his hands as he said, "Hey, I get it, man. I've been there and done a few cheerleaders in my time. It's not like you're thinking about checking their ID as things get down and dirty…"

Jason pulled away from the wall, his gaze stony. "I don't sleep with Lamae."

Dean smirked. "Come on, it's not really something you can deny. You share a bed and everything. It would be only natural if some extra-curricular activities were carried out under the sheets, if you know what I mean."

Crossing the room, Jason moved towards the couch Beclyn was sprawled upon. "Can I sit down?" he asked.

"There's two other seats in this room," Beclyn stated with a glare.

"I don't want Lamae to hear what I'm about to say," he told her, a sharp edge in his tone. "So move your legs."

Glowering, Beclyn shifted to let him sit.

Jason sat, his shoulders hunched forward. "Lamae and I might live together, but we don't have sex."

"Was the first time really that bad?" Dean joked.

Tossing a glare across the room, Jason continued, "We haven't had sex. Ever. Lamae doesn't like the concept of intercourse. It scares her."

Dean's jaw dropped. "No sex?"

"Nothing outside of hugs and kisses."

"No feeling up the chest or touching under the sheets or even the slightest case of oral?" Dean persisted, his eyes widening.

Jason's glare narrowed. "I wouldn't have brought it up, but Lamae hates anything to do with the subject. If she feels uncomfortable, she shuts down and it's practically impossible to talk to her again until she forgets it happened."

"So, no sex talk?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"The last time I let something slip she…" Jason began.

"One French-vanilla latte, two beers and a plate of cookies," Lamae suddenly announced from the doorway, a wide grin across her face. Her grin slipped slightly as she noticed everyone huddling over the coffee table. "What are you guys doing?"

"Just talking," Jason responded quickly, a smile forming over his lips. "Some things about France and travelling."

Lamae set the items on the coffee table. "I loved France," she said with a sigh. "The food was fantastic, but it's nice to be back in an English-speaking country."

Dean reached forward, taking a beer from the table and opening it. "It's funny you guys chose to live in a place like Smallville. It must seem like nothing compared to France."

"A friend recommended Smallville as a place to stay," Lamae explained, taking a seat next to Jason. Beclyn let out a hiss as she was pushed further to the side.

Jason rolled his eyes. He took the coffee and sipped it carefully, hiding his mouth as he muttered, "I wouldn't call him a '_friend_'…"

"Lex was really great to me," Lamae added quickly, clasping her hands in her lap. "He gave me a job, helped me out with the paperwork for school..."

"This 'Lex' guy sounds really nice," Sam pointed out with a smile.

"I don't trust him," Jason stated firmly, placing the coffee back onto the glass table. "Everyone knows the Luthor family have a lot to hide. Not to mention how much leverage he has over us. He could tell your mother where you are at any time."

Sam paused. "Luthor?" His gaze shot between the arguing couple. "As in Lionel and Lex Luthor? Like, practically the richest family in the world – Luthor?"

Lamae nodded. "I know them through my mother."

Sam's brow furrowed, thinking. His eyes suddenly widened. "Your surname is Makra – as in Deirdre Makra?"

Biting her lip, Lamae sourly muttered, "My mother."

"Mean something to you, Sam?" Dean asked, taking a gulp of his beer.

Sam turned, a shocked expression plastered to his face. "We're sitting in front of Lamae Makra – the heir to the Makra Corporation."

"It's not really as fantastic as it sounds," Jason tried to intervene.

"The Makra Corporation is pretty much the biggest corporation in the world," Sam gushed. "They're an Australian-based company that's done wonders. I studied Deirdre Makra in my first year of college. She has a leading legal team, and…"

Beclyn sniffed loudly, not bothering to hide her distaste. "The walking encyclopaedia strikes again."

"You're Australian?" Dean asked Lamae, his face forming into a mask of confusion. "As in, '_Giydaya, mayt. Deengo stole my baybee_?'-Australian?"

Sam glowered at Dean. "That was the worst imitation of an Australian accent I have heard. Ever."

Dean sniffed, offended.

"It's okay," Lamae said, her tone forgiving. She averted her gaze. "I was born in Sydney, but I haven't really spent much time in Australia. My mother had me shipped off to an overseas boarding school at the first chance she could. She's not really all she's made out to be."

"She's famous for all the good things she's done," Sam pointed out. "She was even in the newspaper a few days ago."

Jason let out a hiss, throwing a quick glance at Lamae.

"Your mother donated millions of dollars to a medical foundation in Australia. I think that's worth something," Sam argued, his eyebrow raising.

Slapping his head, Jason leant back in his seat.

"I was surprised how much devotion the publishers placed on that one article about charity affairs happening overseas," Lamae agreed, her face uncharacteristically sombre. "That was until I noticed the tiny article halfway through the paper about a new weapon prototype that backfired and killed several soldiers in the Middle East. Funnily enough, she single-handedly sponsored the making of that weapon, despite the fact that its only purpose is to aide in maiming people with exploding bullets. Interesting how the publishers didn't stress that bit of news."

Sam's eager expression fell, his gaze falling to the floor.

Beclyn yawned, bored. "Fascinating. Here's another fact – some of us haven't eaten since breakfast. Get the hint?"

Her eyes lighting up in realisation, Lamae cried out, "Oh, you're right!" She stood and turned to her twin, a warm smile touching her lips. "I hope you like roasted beef and vegetables."

"If it's anything as good as the cookies, I'm all in," Dean told her.

"Yeah, then we can talk about why that ghost went for you last night instead of going for me," Beclyn added. Jason scowled as she sprawled her legs back across the couch and on top of his lap.

Lamae paused. "You mean how it asked for you originally then it ended up calling me a demon and trying to kill me?"

Flushing scarlet, Jason said, "I don't think that's what happened…"

"That would be precisely what I'm talking about," Beclyn responded, her eyes narrowing.

"I thought it was obvious," Lamae said with a sigh.

"You're a demon?" Sam gaped.

Lamae offered a cheeky smile. "I meant that it was obviously going for the more intelligent twin." She let out a sudden scream and ran into the kitchen as Beclyn launched from the couch, a furious snarl across her face.

"Get back here, you little brat!" Beclyn roared, her fists clenched as she took after her. "I'll freaking tear you to pieces for insulting me!" She paused as she heard chuckling from the other couch. "What the hell is your problem?" she demanded, turning on the brothers.

"It's nothing," Dean told her, a grin inching along his lips. "I just I find it hilarious that I barely know Lamae, and yet I can already see how you two pull off pretending to be sisters."

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**I always found it funny how foreigners always relate the line 'dingo ate my baby' with Australians. It's always been a running joke as far back as I can remember. It really caught me off guard when I was in Japan and I ran into a couple of Americans in a youth hostel. We got chatting and the topic of dingoes came up. They were interested in the story and asked if dingoes were a real problem here. And, being Australian, I joked, "If you think our dingoes are ferocious, you should see our drop-bears!" I didn't think much of it until I was walking past their hostel room later and I heard these Americans tell their buddies, "Yeah, drop-bears totally exist! She even told us they were bigger and more ferocious than dingoes!" … I feel I have accomplished something.**

**I'm sorry I didn't reply to a few reviews for the last chapter. Needless to say, you guys are awesome and I wish I got that many reviews every chapter – happy face –**

**Next chapter up on Sunday.**


	14. Chapter 14

**As a bit of an experimental treat, I decided to make passionfruit and white-chocolate scones for lunch. Now I'm sitting here, calculating the calories and freaking out. Better news is that I got more pokemon for my pokedex. I'm that geeky college chick which sits around with her headphones in her ears and tapping away at her DS. Embarrassing. Oh, and I watched the last episode of Supernatural. There better be another season or else I'm starting a mutiny. **

**Warning: Probably adult themes. Can't go wrong with that. **

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 14**

Dean winced as Lamae tenderly placed the bag of frozen peas over his nose. He flashed a grin in thanks. She offered a comforting smile in return before placing a bag of ice on her own head.

Turning to Beclyn, she pouted. "I was just joking; you didn't have to hit me."

Beclyn ignored her, chewing on her last mouthful of roast beef.

"I don't see why I had to get a foot to the face," Dean protested, gingerly poking his nose. "I was just calling it as I saw it."

Taking a sip of his beer, Sam muttered, "You'd think you'd have learnt by now not to make observations around her."

Jason leant against the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed as if he were assuming the role of authority. "Violence is a sign of a troubled teenager," he pointed out, narrowing his gaze at Beclyn.

"Trying to psychoanalyse me, Coachie?" Beclyn snapped in reply.

"You should show some respect to you elders," he snarled back.

Rolling her eyes, Beclyn pushed her plate away. She leant back into the couch with a sigh. "I think I need a beer after that meal."

Jason and Lamae froze.

"I could go for another beer," Dean agreed, clutching the bag of peas as he leaned forward.

"W-Wait a second," Lamae stammered, panicked.

Jason moved to stand in front of the kitchen entrance, blocking Dean's path. "I don't know about your place, but we don't serve alcohol to minors in this household."

Lamae quickly joined to stand beside her boyfriend. "It's just that we've seen what happens when minors come into contact with alcohol and…it really isn't pretty…"

Dean frowned, gesturing back to the table. "I'm flattered, really, but I'm not exactly underage here. Besides, I've already had one beer…"

"We weren't talking about you," Jason said, nodding to Beclyn.

Dean faltered, turned to Sam, then flashed a glance at Beclyn.

"What... Beclyn?" Sam asked, a grin appearing over his lips.

"Beclyn's twenty-five, dude," Dean stated with an amused laugh. "Unless the drinking age has been lifted to thirty then I think she's well and truly old enough to have a beer."

A frown creased Jason's forehead as Lamae's eyes widened in shock.

Beclyn sniggered, lifting her feet onto the coffee table. "Hate to break it to you, Coachie, but I'm older than you. Now, respect your elders and go get me a beer."

It was Jason's turn to look shocked. A sudden squeal sounded from Lamae.

"I have an older sister!" Lamae exclaimed, thrilled. She wrung her hands excitedly as she continued, "You don't need to worry – I won't tell anyone at school that you're seven years older than me."

Beclyn sniffed, turning away. "It's not my problem anymore."

Tilting her head, Lamae's face formed into confusion.

"Gig's over," Beclyn elaborated with a sigh. She concentrated on her shoes, not meeting Lamae's gaze. "I only came to this town to kill that ghost. Now that's finished, we can move on." She sat up, pulling her feet from the table. "Speaking of which, I'll have to give that beer a miss. The guys and I need some sleep before heading off tomorrow."

Dean and Sam glanced at each other, their expressions apprehensive.

Lamae's expression fell. "You can't leave," she said, her voice cracking. "You just got to Smallville."

"Yeah, and this is me _leaving_ this dump of a town," Beclyn said, as she focussed on straightening her jacket.

"But we have so much to talk about," Lamae pressed anxiously. "I haven't even thanked you for…"

Jason stepped forward, placing a hand on his distressed girlfriend's shoulder. "Hun, we can't expect her to stay in Smallville forever. She and the guys have other things to do, but I'm sure they'll miss us as much as we'll miss them."

Beclyn sniggered. "Yeah, Coachie. Try to keep those tears of happiness at bay until I actually leave the house." She stood, walking to the doorway to stop in front of Lamae. "Guess I'll see you around," she muttered with a shrug. She let out a startled breath as her sister wrapped her in a hug.

"I want to come with you." Lamae huddled her face in Beclyn's shoulder, masking her tears. "It's cruel that you're leaving so soon…"

"Lae, you can't come with us, but maybe we can meet up when…" Beclyn started, but Jason reached forward and pulled Lamae away.

"Maybe when you've finished school," he finished for Beclyn, patting Lamae on the back.

Dean wavered between heading out the door and glancing at his brother. "Beclyn, I… uhh…"

"Car. _Now_," Beclyn ordered sharply, heading for the front porch.

The boys quickly headed for the car, knowing hesitation was going to end in vast amounts of physical pain.

Sam paused in the kitchen, wearing an uneasy smile as he turned back to Lamae. "Thanks for the meal and everything."

Lamae sniffed and wiped her eyes. "S'okay," she answered, her lips trembling.

With one last wave, Beclyn and the Winchesters climbed into the Impala and tore off down the driveway.

Taking a step forward, Lamae leant against the front door, her damp cheeks marking the glass.

"You okay, sweetie?" Jason asked tentatively. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. "I'll make some hot chocolate to cheer you up."

Lamae stared at the end of the driveway, her face blotchy and red. "It's a pity we didn't get to know them a bit better."

Jason nodded. "Don't worry, we'll see them again." He turned, gesturing to the living room. "I'm going to get the good mugs out of the glass cabinet."

Waiting until she heard Jason's receding footsteps, Lamae swiveled to lean her back against the doorframe. "They'll be okay," she whispered to herself, a small smile touching her lips.

"After all, they have Mary looking out for them."

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**So what does Lamae actually know? Maybe she's not just the ditsy, bizarre character everyone loves. **

**I promise to include a scene of Dean being nude next chapter. Talk about incentive. **


	15. Chapter 15

**A new chapter! I've been watching my sister play Silent Hill Homecoming for the last few days. I spent most of last night having nightmares about every single creepy creature that you encounter during that game. Pyramid head really freaks me out, though I can see why fangirls like him –blushes- . **

**Warning: swearing, nudity.**

**Spoilers: If you haven't seen the first season of Supernatural, then why are you here?**

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 15**

_Monday Morning_

Tiny diamonds of light shone through the curtains as the bluish-grey dimness of early morning was banished by the sunrise. A beeping sound emitted from an alarm beside the bed. Accompanied by an irritated groan, a masculine hand detached itself from its girlfriend's waist and slapped the alarm off. Rubbing the sleep from its owner's eyes, it returned to the warmth under the covers. Its owner smiled softly as he gazed down on his girlfriend, who continued to sleep. He moved his lips to her forehead and kissed it gently.

"Come on," he told her, pulling a strand of hair from her face. "Time to get ready for school."

She let out a soft groan, snuggling into the warmth of his bare chest. He smiled.

"I'm going to take a shower," he stated, rearranging the blankets to cover his girlfriend.

Sighing, he gathered his usual clothes together and made his way into the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he stripped off his pants. He climbed into the shower, closed the curtain and turned on the faucets. Cold water sprayed from the shower head onto his naked, muscled form. He gasped loudly, then let out a relieved breath as the temperature warmed to something slightly more tolerable.

He leant against the wall, letting the warm water wash over his back and between his legs. He smiled as he thought about the woman in the next room. She was adorable in the morning. If she had her way, she wouldn't be up until the early afternoon, but school was important and she needed –

The shower curtain was suddenly wrenched open, his girlfriend standing on the other side.

"What do you mean '_school'_?" she snarled viciously.

Dean paused, his hand poised above the soap dish. He'd been hoping Beclyn would confront Sam instead of him.

Taking a deep breath, he suddenly became aware of how naked he was and how close his genitalia were to being torn off. "You need to go to school."

"Like hell I do," she retaliated, her lips twisted in fury. "Gig's over. Time for us to move on."

"Gig's over for _you_," he corrected, his hand moving to cover his most precious assets in case she did try to go in for the kill. He noticed there was still at least an inch he couldn't protect. For the first time ever, he thought it sucked being on the large side. "You gotta remember that me and Sam didn't want to do the ghost gig. While you were out trying to get yourself killed, we were investigating the town and we came up with some intense stuff."

Beclyn narrowed her glare. "We're staying in town for a bunch of falling rocks, a few caves and a couple of mental cases?"

Dean grabbed the soap and began washing himself, one hand still on the defensive. "We haven't come across a town this crazy since the scarecrow freaks in Burkitsville."

"So you guys get to go out and hunt these things while I have to sit on my ass in school?" she demanded.

"This is a small town and kids talk more about this sort of stuff," Dean explained. "School is the best place to get information and you just happen to be passing as a student."

Beclyn's brow creased, thinking.

"You'll still be able to come on gigs," he pointed out, "but only if they fall on the weekend. Can't have you tired for classes."

"Fuck you," Beclyn hissed back. "If this is the only way to get information then I'll do it, but like hell I'm taking your stupid remarks on top of it."

Dean grinned. "I'm glad you agree. Now how about you strip off, climb in here and give me a complimentary hand job?"

"Let me think about it," Beclyn thought out loud, her tone sarcastic as she took a step back towards the toilet. She slowly pressed the full-flush button.

Dean let out a hiss, and then a loud string of profanities as the temperature of the shower dropped to freezing. She smirked at him from the other side of the room as he glared back at her.

"You know, a simple '_no'_ would have been fine."

Several birds chirped cheerfully in the morning sunshine as crisp brown leaves scooted along in the breeze. Lamae watched it all from the Torch office window, dismal as she leant her cheek against her open palm. School just wasn't the same without her sister.

"…and there was this whole suggestion about '_how to carve a pumpkin_', but that's so elementary school," Lois explained from her spot, perched on top of Chloe's desk. Letting out a growl, she muttered, "I can't believe we're still working on this stupid Halloween special edition. Halloween isn't until _ages_ away."

"Halloween is a sacred tradition that has been passed down through generations. It should be a reporter's honour to spend their time spreading the joy to others," Chloe recited from behind her cousin. "And how about finding a chair instead of using my desk as your personal throne?"

Lois let out a loud, irritated sigh. "I get what Halloween is about – kids egging your house because you don't have candy, stupid frat-boy pranks and store clerks dressed in ridiculous costumes. But seriously, do people really need a special issue of the Torch telling them the exact art of bobbing for apples?"

"That's better than your idea on how to sell Edward Cullen's skin on Ebay," Chloe protested.

"Yeah, we should have done _'how to spot a rabid fangirl'_," Lois answered. Turning to Lamae, she asked, "What do you think, Lamae – bobbing for apples or vampire skin?" She paused, waiting for Lamae's reply. When it didn't arrive, Lois waved her hands and called, "Hello? Are we awake over there?"

Lamae blinked in confusion as her gaze jumped from Chloe to Lois. "Sorry?"

"Oh, forget it!" Lois hissed, exasperated. "I'll just ask Clark once he gets here."

"Ask me what?" a voice called from the doorway.

Clark wandered into the room, backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Jeez, how late are you? It doesn't take all morning to feed a few cows, Smallville," Lois pointed out.

Rolling his eyes, Clark retaliated, "Perhaps you should try doing some _actual_ work, Lois. Not all of us spend the entire morning putting on make-up." Before Lois could reply, Clark asked, "What were you going to ask me?"

Lois waved a hand dismissively, her face twisting in annoyance. "Never mind. I tried asking Lamae but she's zoning out again."

"Better her zoning out than acting like her sister," Clark remarked. "I said hello to her in the hall this morning and she almost attacked me. I should have guessed, I mean, she looked really pis…" He stopped, glanced quickly at Lamae before correcting his profanity. "…Highly frustrated."

Lamae frowned. "In the hall, this morning?"

"Yeah, she really gave an earful to Gemma Colsa when they bumped shoulders. Beclyn takes calling someone overweight to new heights of offensive…" Clark started.

Lamae didn't wait for him to finish. Flying from the room, she raced down the hall to the row of lockers near the entranceway. Her gaze skimmed the crowd of oncoming students before falling on her target.

"BECLYN!" she screamed, running forward and crash-tackling her sister in a hug.

Beclyn groaned loudly, shifting her backpack out of reach. "Jeez, Lae. I saw you less than two days ago…"

"You came back!" Lamae beamed, grinning widely.

"I never left," Beclyn corrected, pushing her away. Her gaze darkened as she leaned forward. "There's been a change of plans, and you're going to help me put them in motion."

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**Alrighty! That entire nude scene of Dean was practically just boasting how well-endowed he is. Also, next chapter will be out sometime next week (hopefully) where you get to meet Beclyn's newest enemy, and it's a new kind of demonic. **

**Please review! -smiley face- **


	16. Chapter 16

**I'm on a boredom streak at the moment. I have three days before I go on a month-long holiday and I am completely unprepared. I was supposed to have finished the next chapter and have my bags packed, but that somehow has changed to not starting the next chapter, bags being untouched and suddenly having the urge to bake several trays of cookies. **

**Warning: adult themes, possibly swearing, sexual themes.**

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 16**

Students bustled about, snatching up books and slamming locker doors before the class bell. While most were panicked about upcoming exams, finishing assignments and arriving to class on time, Valerie Shaine was more concerned about which lipstick colour matched her miniskirt. Meanwhile, her best friend, Fifi Bands, was reminiscing out loud about the events of the weekend – or more precisely, the pool party they had both attended.

"… and he was so hot, with like, a capital H-A-W-T," Fifi finished, shaking out her dark curls.

Valerie rolled her eyes. Stefan, the amazingly suave jock Fifi was swooning over, was incredibly racist. With Fifi being African American, Valerie knew her best friend didn't stand a chance in his eyes. Then again, Valerie had already spent a night with Stefan and had discovered his unusual clown costume fetish. Just one more dweeb for the list.

"Speaking of hot guys," Valerie started, admiring her reflection in the mirror attached to her locker door, "guess who hooked up with Sean Harold on Saturday night?"

"Oh-mai-gawd," Fifi responded, her eyes widening with disbelief. "You were the one who hooked up with Sean?"

"'Hooked up'?" Valerie sighed at the stupidity of her best friend. "Let's just say that his ego may be a 7.5, but his cock is more like a 2."

Fifi leaned forward, lowering her voice. "What did his girlfriend say when she found out?"

"Fifi, sweetie, that skank wouldn't even have noticed if I'd used her bed and left a thank you note. She's too busy pretending her breasts are real," Valerie explained, shutting the locker door.

Valerie considered herself to be the best of everything at Smallville High. She was the best looking, the best kisser, and the best in bed. She always wore the newest exclusive fashion and never went without the most expensive accessories. It was a known fact that every girl wanted to be her and every guy wanted to do her. Not that she hadn't already sampled most of the boys the school offered.

"I didn't think Sean was that good," Fifi muttered, obviously resentful that she hadn't had a taste of him yet. "He was telling everyone about the quarterback that got his nose broken."

Valerie sniggered. "What, was he eating out Gemma Colsa under the football stands again? You'd think he would have learnt by now that she's a kicker and thrusts that little bit too much."

Fifi smirked for a moment, enjoying the blatant mockery. "That's probably more likely, but Sean was saying that Beclyn Jones punched him for touching her."

Valerie paused. "Who, now?"

It was Fifi's turn to falter. "You know, Makra's sister."

Valerie rolled her eyes. "That geek doesn't have a sister."

"She does now, and she is hot, with like, a capital 'H-A-W—"

As far as Valerie had bothered to find out, Lamae Makra was the newest nerd to join the Torch team. She spent all day with her head in books and never wore anything that didn't cover her arms. In cheerleader terminology she was a lost cause – not that Valerie was part of the cheerleading team. She didn't have time to be practicing star jumps and waving around pom poms like the brainless idiots on the team. But because of her status of being the best, she was the self-proclaimed leader of the team and fully monitored who joined and what the skanks were up to.

"Why didn't I know about this new girl?" Valerie hissed, remembering the original topic of conversation.

Fifi's jaw fell open as she suddenly realised how angry Valerie was that she had been excluded from valuable gossip. "Dawn Stiles was the one that told me there was a new girl. I just presumed she had told you as well…"

Valerie sniffed distastefully. She'd alienate Dawn Stiles later. A poster on the girls' bathroom door saying that Dawn had sucked off a teacher would do nicely. "Okay, so give me the 4-1-1 on the new girl."

Fifi's face screwed up in thought. "Well, like, she's Makra's twin…"

"So she's fat and ugly?" Valerie sneered.

"Like, she's not completely Makra's twin," Fifi clarified. "Beclyn is, like, the hottest girl I've ever seen."

Valerie's gaze turned to narrow at her best friend.

"Apart from you, of course!" Fifi shrieked, realising her mistake. "It's just that she's hot in a way that can pull off frayed, baggy jeans and an oversized leather jacket…"

Sniggering, Valerie sneered, "Oh, Fifi. You are just so adorably stupid sometimes. No one can pull off that monstrosity. Have you been taking your mother's medication again?"

Fifi glanced at the ground, her large brown eyes welling.

Valerie rolled her eyes. "Oh, my God. If you cry one more time, I am so officially dumping you as my best friend. I have so much to do before class starts and there is no way I'm going to be able to flirt with Ryan Daniels if you're sniffling everywhere."

Gulping back her tears, Fifi nodded and offered a quivering, insincere smile.

"Good," Valerie stated, smoothing down her skirt. "Now tell me, can you see my underwear in this?"

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**I feel this character is really going to get a beating somehow. I'll try and get the next chapter out next week, but knowing me you won't get it for another year. –omega sad face- **


	17. Chapter 17

**I didn't update over the last month because of traveling. I don't know who suggested camping in the wet tropics would be fun, but I am now thoroughly against going anywhere near mud. I started cleaning my room yesterday and my best friend (beta) rocked up at my place and decided to help. We found receipts from 1997 and a whole heap of diaries from when I was in primary school. I really should have thrown them out, but my sister found them and started writing her favourite quotes from them on facebook. Fabulous stuff.**

**Warning: Swearing, adult themes.**

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 17**

Lamae leant her cheek against her open palm. "You figure that teenagers talk more than adults about strange happenings in town, so you decide that you're going to hang out at school?" She blinked, thinking. "And we're going to get this information by bombarding random students with questions…"

"I never said it was a _good_ plan," Beclyn snapped, resting her feet on the desk in front. "Sam and Dean came up with it, which automatically makes it a working failure." She stretched her arms, yawning. "The biggest flaw about it is that it's the only plan we've got for the time being."

"We could pretend we're writing a school report about it," Lamae pointed out, raising her chewed pen to her lips. "We could pass if off as a history assignment or an exclusive for the Torch—" She stopped as the English teacher stormed into class, struggling with the massive pile of Shakespearean plays in her arms.

"Right," Miss Jastelle announced, slamming the books on the teacher's desk, "we have too much to do today and far too little time to do it in…"

"She's cranky," Lamae whispered to her sister.

"She's a bitch," Beclyn clarified.

Several jocks sneeringly pushed and shoved each other into the English room. One broke away from the pack to take the seat in front of Beclyn, forcing her to shift her feet. As he sat, he turned and flashed her a wink. Beclyn sniffed distastefully.

"Mr. Daniels, it is a pleasure to see that you have deigned to grace us with your presence today," Miss Jastelle sneered at the jock.

An amused grin touched the jock's lips. "Sorry, Miss. Duty calls." He turned to wink at Beclyn for the second time.

"That's going to get real annoying real quick," Beclyn told him, unimpressed.

"Snappy," he stated, turning back to the teacher, but not before muttering, "I like that in a girl."

Before Beclyn could retaliate, the teacher said, "Ah, Miss Jones. Glad to see you're on time today."

Beclyn's lips tensed in a sneer. "Anything to please you, Miss."

Miss Jastelle wandered to Beclyn's desk, a forced smile plastered across her lips. "You can start the class off by handing in your completed Macbeth essay. It is ready, isn't it?"

"Of course it's done," Beclyn replied, locking gazes with the uptight woman.

The teacher glanced at the empty desk, her eyes narrowing. "I think your definition of '_done_' is different to mine."

"Oh, I get what you mean now," Beclyn answered, equally sarcastic. She stretched her arms above her head. "By '_ready_' you meant that you wanted me to hand it in. You see, I didn't know that. I thought you just wanted it '_done_'."

"I do believe I said that it was due today," the teacher retaliated, crossing her arms.

Beclyn clicked her tongue and shook her head, not at all bothered. "Jeez, now you tell me. We could've saved ourselves some time and this lovely conversation if you had brought that to my attention earlier."

The teacher's patience reached the end of its tether. "I want it by the end of the day," she snapped, slapping her hand down onto the desk, "and it better be good."

"You'll get your essay at the end of the day," Beclyn assured her with a sigh. As the teacher rolled her eyes, she added, "Oh, and Miss, I would think twice about stressing out like that in front of the class again. At this rate, you can't afford anymore wrinkles."

"What does she mean it's due at the end of morning tea?" Beclyn demanded, her face scarlet from anger. "We had an agreement that she didn't have to get the stupid essay until the end of the day."

"That was before you said she had wrinkles," Lamae pointed out, opening her lunch box. She licked her lips as she unpacked a bag of home-made cookies, an apple and a chicken sandwich.

Beclyn rolled her eyes. "The woman can't hate me just for pointing out her flaws. Ever heard of '_building comments'_?"

"I think you mean '_constructive criticism_'," Lamae corrected, opening the bag of cookies. She paused as she saw Beclyn staring at the bag. "Where's your lunch?" she asked.

"Dean forgot to give me money for the cafeteria," Beclyn responded. When Lamae didn't budge, Beclyn continued with, "You know, I just can't get out of my head how delicious those cookies were on the weekend. Man, if I could only just taste one of those cookies again, I would be so happy…"

Lamae passed the bag to Beclyn, reaching for the sandwich instead.

"Oh, and I'll have the sandwich as well," Beclyn told her.

Lamae's jaw fell open disbelievingly. "But then I'll only have the apple!"

"Don't act like that's such a bad thing," a voice sniggered from behind the girls. "Seriously, unless big thighs come into fashion, I really don't think you'll need the calories."

Beclyn turned to see a tall girl with straight, blonde hair and another giggling girl with bouncy brown curls. Lamae's gaze fell to the ground, trying to hide her hurt expression.

"Can I help you?" Beclyn asked, her tone anything but pleasant.

The girl with brown curls glanced at the blonde-haired girl before excitedly saying, "You're the new girl and everything, and after, like, putting a lot of thought into it, Valerie Shaine has decided that you would be totally awesome on the cheerleading team."

"And Valerie Shaine would be…?" Beclyn began.

The brown-haired girl threw another glance at her companion.

"Oh," Beclyn stated, turning her glare to the blonde girl. "Well, Valerie, I'm flattered, but the answer's no."

"You should seriously put some more thought into it," the girl jumped in, her eyes wide. "It's, like, a one-time offer."

Beclyn raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Since you put it that way…" she started.

The girl's eyes beamed with enthusiasm.

"… the answer's still no," Beclyn finished, ignoring the dark-haired girl.

"If you're totally holding back because of the whole Gemma thing, then don't worry about it," the dark-haired girl squealed. "We only just heard about the incident with you trying to break her fingers and we're totally cool about it; in fact, we're even thinking about kicking her off the team."

"By '_we', _I bet you mean '_Valerie Shaine'_, huh?" Beclyn stepped forward, standing only inches away from the blonde's nose. "Let me clarify something for you, Valerie. I don't want to join your team of sluts. You and your lackey can find someone else to hustle."

"You totally can't just…" the brown-haired girl started.

"Shut it, Fifi," the blonde girl snapped, instantly causing the girl to fall silent. Valerie straightened up, facing Beclyn. "I thought you would enjoy getting onto the team." She threw a narrowed glare at Lamae. "It would be better than your current company."

"Yeah, because going with you would be _such_ an upgrade," Beclyn snarled sarcastically.

Valerie shrugged. "Just giving you a chance. Maybe a little bit more time with Makra will make you realise you're making a mistake." Turning to her friend, she said, "Come on, Fifi. Let's go spread the word that _Makra's_ got a friend."

Lamae flinched at the pure disgust lacing Valerie's tone.

"Oh, wait, before you go," Beclyn added, smirking. "I don't know if you've heard, but big thighs aren't in fashion right now so I'd think about investing in a skirt that actually covers your ass."

As the girls stormed away, Lamae turned to Beclyn, biting her lip. "You didn't have to stay with…"

Beclyn raised a hand, cutting off her sister. "Lae, if they're gonna treat you that badly, you can mark them on my 'hated' list."

Lamae took a bite of her apple, hiding her relieved smile.

"Whoa, don't start eating yet, Lae," Beclyn scolded, unwrapping the sandwich. "You have a Macbeth essay due in about twenty minutes. Just remember to write my name at the top."

* * *

**Hopefully this chapter makes up for the lateness. I have to finish cleaning my room so I'm guessing the next chapter will be out sometime next year. –sigh-**


	18. Chapter 18

**Wah! Uni of death is trying to kill me again! At least I finished cleaning my room and now my family wants to renovate the house. I just want to do some artwork, write fanfiction and watch Supernatural. Speaking of which, I can't wait for the next season! :D **

**Warning: strong sexual themes, strong swearing**

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**Deadly Secret **

**Chapter 18**

The sound of plastic chairs scraping across the floor resonated throughout the cafeteria as a group of jocks laughed boisterously, crushing soft drink cans with their hands and sneakers. The class bell had rung several minutes beforehand, signalling the beginning of class, but not one of the testosterone-fuelled males had made a move for the door. Most of the late class-goers ignored the group as they begrudgingly heaved school bags over their shoulders to leave, pretending not to hear the topic of conversation blasting from the loudest of the jocks.

"The chick was hott for a shitty porno," Malcolm Turner bellowed, shoving one of his friend's heads playfully. "She had the classic 'fuck me' look; blonde hair, waxed pussy…"

"Dude, no way!" his friend responded with a sneer. "She had more hair down there than I have on my head."

Malcolm momentarily flushed red, either embarrassed or furious. "Oh, yeah? It doesn't matter what she looked like, she's a thousand times better than anything you'll ever get to fu – "

"Chill it, Turner," Ryan Daniels warned suddenly from across the other side of the table.

Malcolm paled, instantly quiet. Several other jocks hushed as they waited for the group leader to speak.

Ryan pinched his forehead, scowling. "You boys don't know hott girls from chicken shit." He crushed a soft drink can in his other hand before leaning forward. The rest of the group leaned forward with him, hanging onto his every word. "You can't say nothing about fuck-worthy girls until you seen the new chick."

Sean, who had been playing blood knuckles with a shredded can, finally glanced up and said, "What? Beclyn Jones?"

The other jocks muttered in whispers to one another, hurriedly sharing their opinion with the closest companion.

"She's not like the pathetic bitches you get in pornos with their fake orgasms and stretched pussies. Jones's more like the one that every guy wants, but not everyone's gonna get," Ryan explained further.

Nodding in agreement, Sean stated, "Yeah, she's hotter than the other chicks at this school. Her tits are massive and she walks like she owns the place."

Ryan cracked his knuckles behind his head. "She's the type of girl _you_ guys are never gonna be able to touch, but me…?"

Malcolm rolled his eyes, daring to be bold. "I doubt she'd even give you a blow job, let alone fuck you."

"Yeah? Let me tell you this, girls like her wanna be dominated, wanna be used. I bet she wants to be tied down and whipped. And believe me, morons, I've already made the first move to get her wrapped naked around me," Ryan clarified, glaring at Malcolm for his disloyalty.

A second wave of nervous chatter flitted around the group.

"Were you thinking of asking her to the Halloween Dance?" a younger, uneasy jock asked.

Ryan sniffed. "Once I'm done, she'll be begging me to take her, again and again."

"I bet you couldn't even score a hand job by the end of the week," Sean challenged, crossing his arms.

"You're on," Ryan responded. "Fifty bucks says I have her legs wrapped around me by Friday afternoon."

He smirked as the other jocks gawked at the seemingly impossible bet.

He had five days to make Beclyn Jones his.

"That had to be the most boring class I've ever had to sit through," Beclyn complained loudly.

Lamae shuffled from the class doorway behind her. "You've said that about every subject we've had today."

"That's 'cause they keep getting worse." She let out an exaggerated yawn. "At least bitch-face can't complain that I didn't hand in my essay."

"It's not my best work," Lamae admitted shyly. "I think it will get you a B if I'm lucky…"

"Ha!" Beclyn snorted. "Then I can rub it in Sam's face that I _do_ work in class."

Lamae turned on her heel, a grin teasing her lips. "Since I did that essay for you, I bet you won't mind helping me out with the Torch today."

"I'll pass," Beclyn answered firmly.

The grin didn't waver. "You just have to sit and guard the office while I go and grab some things for Chloe. It shouldn't take long."

"Don't think that just because you did my essay, you get to…" Beclyn started. She paused, then turned to find her sister had already disappeared. "Son of a bitch."

The office was cramped, cluttered with junk and held nothing to occupy Beclyn's attention as she sat with her feet on Lamae's desk. The surface had been littered with pictures of foreign countries, plastic butterflies and some sort of purple glitter that made Beclyn sneeze, but the problem had been solved by emptying a box of documents onto another desk and piling Lamae's prized objects inside. She was contemplating rifling through the other desks for anything edible before Clark walked through the door.

"Hey," he greeted her warmly. He hesitated as he saw the massive pile of dumped papers over his desk. "What's all this?"

"Dunno," Beclyn lied, grabbing a piece of paper and scrunching it into a ball.

Clark placed his bag on the desk and turned with a smile. "I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you weren't going to join the Torch."

Beclyn threw the paper ball at him. He blinked as it hit him in the nose, then frowned.

"I'm just guarding the office until Lamae gets back," she told him authoritatively. Glancing at the clock, she let out a frustrated sigh. "She's been gone for ages. She could have at least told me where she was going…"

Clark swivelled, staring at the wall closest to Beclyn. "She's coming out of the printing room."

Beclyn turned to where he was looking, raising an eyebrow. "The wall told you that?"

"No, of course not. That would be silly," he stammered, suddenly flustered.

Before Beclyn could retaliate, Lamae appeared in the doorway, wheeling a heavy load of boxes behind her.

"Where were you?" Beclyn snapped.

Lamae blinked, startled. "I wasn't gone that long, was I?"

"No," Beclyn pressed, crossing her arms. "I want to know exactly where you were."

Gesturing to the boxes of paper, Lamae answered, "I was just picking these up from the printing room. Chloe needs them for her research."

Beclyn turned to narrow her gaze at Clark. "Interesting…" she muttered.

Ignoring her sister, Lamae beamed at Clark. "Would you mind helping me put these on Chloe's desk?" she asked him.

Clark grinned back, looking relieved that Beclyn wasn't getting the chance to interrogate him. He walked to the trolley and picked up a box in each hand before effortlessly moving them to Chloe's desk. Just as he turned away to retrieve the rest, one of the boxes haphazardly teetered near the edge.

"Watch it!" Beclyn cried out, rushing forward to keep it from falling. She grabbed the box, wincing as its full weight fell into her arms. "Fudging hell," she gasped, careful not to swear in front of her sister.

Clark grabbed the box easily, placing it on the floor. "You okay?" he asked her, concerned.

Beclyn shook her fingers, trying to recover feeling in her limbs. "Those things weigh almost as much as me," she scowled. She paused, her eyebrows furrowing. "You know what? I think a cup of coffee would make me feel better. Go fetch, Clark."

"Maybe we should see the school nurse, or…" he began, pointing to the door.

"Need. Coffee. Now," Beclyn growled, her tone sharp.

Clark was out the door within seconds.

Lamae began unpacking the boxes. "You know, maybe we should go see the school nurse. Chloe would kill me if our newest Torch member broke her wrist…"

"He's not human," Beclyn whispered, folding her arms over her chest.

Lamae froze. "I'm sorry?"

Turning to sit on her sister's desk, Beclyn frowned and hissed, "Clark isn't human."

Letting out a long breath, Lamae said, "Funny, he seems to look like a human…"

"He may _look_ human, but think about it. Those boxes feel like half a tonne."

"You weigh half a tonne?" Lamae gawked teasingly. She regretted it as Beclyn smacked a stack of papers on her head.

"He lifted two of those boxes without a second thought. He must have superhuman strength or something," Beclyn continued, glaring at the door.

Lamae rubbed her head, flinching as she touched a lump. "He's a farmer's son and a footballer. Being strong is a requirement."

"Oh, yeah?" Beclyn asked, not at all convinced. "Before you came in, I was wondering where you were and he told me by looking at a wall."

"That's so cool," Lamae gushed, clutching her hands together. "I've always wanted to meet a psychic." She cringed as another pile of papers hit her head.

"Not like that," Beclyn scolded, irritated. "I muttered it out loud and he gazed off before telling me. Besides, you've already met a psychic. Sam is like a walking, talking freak show on very long legs."

Giving up, Lamae resumed unloading papers. "He might've seen me earlier or he could have overheard Chloe asking me to get them the other day. Just because he can carry heavy things and know where his friends are doesn't mean he's an alien."

Beclyn rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid. I didn't say alien, I meant something like a vampire or werewolf, maybe even something worse."

"He walks around in the daylight and he doesn't get hairy during the full moon, thus he's an alien," Lamae responded playfully. She glanced up as her sister climbed off the desk to make her way to the door. "Where are you going?" she asked, standing.

"Home," Beclyn snarled back, "to people who can take things seriously."

* * *

**- falls onto bed – Night. We can check if Clark is related to Edward Cullen tomorrow. **


	19. Chapter 19

**So this chapter is completely and utterly late. I don't have much of an excuse except that I've been cleaning the house. I've also been watching Darker than Black non-stop. A guilty pleasure. **

**WARNING: RATED T+. Swearing, violence, sex scene (yes, there is one in there). **

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 19**

The Cruiser Hotel sat just outside of town, between a decrepit billboard and an entire field of growing hay. The walk from school had taken longer than Beclyn had expected, leaving her tired, sweaty and annoyed. By the time she reached the room door, dark clouds had formed overhead, threatening torrential rain at any second. Cursing the weather under her breath, Beclyn opened the door.

"Hey," Sam greeted her from the kitchenette, not glancing up from the newspaper spread over the table.

She grunted in reply as she made her way to the bedroom.

"Dean's gone out to get a few supplies," he continued, turning the page. "He went to pick you up earlier, but figured you'd gone to Lamae's when you didn't show."

Beclyn rolled her eyes, dumping the bag next to the shabby queen-sized bed. She was about to head back into the kitchenette to grab something to eat, but decided against it as her leg muscles made their displeasure known. Instead, she collapsed onto the bed, not bother to strip off her damp clothing. She let out a growl of irritation as her legs continued to ache. The school couldn't have been that far away. Sighing, she closed her eyes, promising herself that a few minutes of darkness would relieve her tired muscles.

It wasn't until several hours later that she was woken by someone crawling into bed with her.

"Have a rough day?" Dean whispered, kissing her neck.

"Ugh," she responded, not wanting to remember any of the time she spent at school.

An arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her hips closer to his torso. She closed her eyes for the second time, only just recognising the soft sound of rain falling on the roof. Soft lips kissed her eyelids.

"I don't want sex…" she mumbled, but didn't push him away.

"I never suggested it," Dean told her. Hesitation, and then, "I thought you were at Lamae's."

Another grunt.

"Have a fight?" he asked, cautious.

Beclyn sniffed. "More like an opposition of opinions."

"You didn't punch her, did you?"

Lifting her head onto one elbow, Beclyn opened her eyes to glare at him. Dean lifted a hand, not at all fazed as he ran his fingers through her hair. Pausing, Beclyn turned as she heard Sam talking in the other room. She could hear his excitement even through the closed door.

"He's on the phone to Sarah," Dean explained, moving his finger to stroke her cheek. "He wants to go back to New York for a week. You know, for '_research_'."

Scowling, Beclyn stated, "He could hire a prostitute if he wanted sex."

Dean frowned. "We still haven't translated the second half of the prophecy," he told her firmly.

"And him going all the way to New York to screw Sarah is really going to help him with linguistics," she replied tartly.

He hugged her closer, pulling the blankets over their heads for a deeper moment of privacy.

"Dean…" she started, trying to tell him that she needed a shower, but his lips met hers instead. She let out a soft sigh as his lips traced her neck.

"You taste like salt," he murmured against her skin.

"I walked home," she said, relaxing as he began to undo the buttons on her shirt. She let out a gasp as his fingers began to work on the latch to her bra. She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you weren't suggesting sex?" Her back arched suddenly as his mouth met hardened nubs of flesh.

"I lied," he answered simply, his hands sliding down her to her pants.

**O-O-O-O-O**

Dean drove Beclyn to school the next morning, where she was met with deep puddles of brown water. She growled angrily, already annoyed at the weather as she climbed out of the car. Dean had to suppress a smirk as she sank into a squishy pool of mud.

Scowling, Beclyn dashed across the street to the school, lifting Dean's leather jacket above her head to keep her hair dry. As much as she hated to admit it, she liked wearing Dean's clothes. There was something about the way it almost reached her knees, the soft waft of masculine scent, and the rough patches that rubbed again her skin. It was a guilty pleasure, and if the brothers ever asked, she would complain of her clothes being too old, torn or unwearable to go without the jacket. Although it was strange how Dean had started placing his jacket at the end of the bed each morning as if he knew she always wanted to wear it. Beclyn sniffed disbelievingly. Like Dean was capable of recognising such romantic notions to make her day better—

"Morning!" an overly cheery voice interrupted her thoughts.

Beclyn let out a growl at her sister, not realizing she had entered the school grounds.

"Are you still cranky at me?" Lamae asked, her chin trembling dangerously.

"How could I possibly stay mad at you?" Beclyn replied sarcastically. "You're annoying, crazy…"

A giant hug engulfed her shoulders. "I knew you couldn't stay cranky at me."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Lae, but I may have to kill you if you keep hugging me," Beclyn warned, making her way to her locker.

Lamae followed, a strange expression tugging at her features.

Reaching into her bag, Beclyn checked her timetable before letting out a sigh and throwing the book into her locker. "I've got sports up first. How did your boyfriend react when he found out his favourite student was staying in town?"

A sly grin twisted across Lamae's face. "I didn't tell him."

Beclyn turned, surprised. "Why wouldn't you tell…?" She stopped as she saw the mischievous twinkle in her sister's eyes. She frowned. "You're not half as innocent as you look, you know that?"

Lamae smiled. "I'm allowed to play tricks every once and a while. I am Australian, after all."

The shrill morning bell interrupted the conversation.

"I'll see you after class," Lamae called, already making her way down the hall. "Make sure you tell me his expression!"

Beclyn rolled her eyes. She didn't think her sister would like the joke half as much if Jason had a heart attack. But even so, it wasn't her problem.

Slamming her locker shut, she made her way to the oval.

"Hey, Beclyn!" a voice called from behind her.

"Oh, for God sake's," she snarled under her breath. She turned, scowling. "What do you want?"

A boy jogged towards her, an overly-enthusiastic grin smothering his features. "Do you remember me?"

Beclyn's eye twitched. It was hard to forget the moronic jock who kept winking at her during English class.

Before she could spit at him, he said, "Ryan Daniels. We have sport together."

That's all Beclyn needed, to know that she had to spend an extra class with the jerk.

"I saw _coachie_…" He made sure to accentuate the nickname, as if raising himself to her level of superiority, "… and he said that we have sport in the gymnasium because the oval's all muddy." He beamed a smile which he obviously thought was dazzling. "Shall we walk to class together?"

Beclyn turned, ignoring him as she walked away. The jerk jogged a few steps to catch up to her.

"So, Makra's sister, right?" he started, matching her quickening pace. "I could never tell. I mean, you're a thousand times more gorgeous than she could ever be."

Beclyn's lips tightened as she clenched her fists. One more insult toward her sister and he wouldn't be able to breathe through his nose for a year.

"Let's be serious," he continued. "I've dated a few girls in my lifetime and I can just tell that you're the hottest out of all of them…"

"Hey, dude, heads up!" Sean's voice echoed suddenly before Ryan was crash-tackled into the gymnasium doors. "Aw, man," Sean scowled, shaking his head as Ryan groaned in pain. "You're way sloppy on the defence." He suddenly let out a girlish shriek as Ryan grabbed his collar and wrenched him close.

"_Fuck off_," Ryan seethed, shoving Sean against the other wall.

Sean stared, shocked for a moment before realisation hit him. "Oh, shit, man. I didn't know you were hitting on Jones!" he announced loud enough for the entire class inside the gymnasium to hear.

Beclyn raised an eyebrow before letting out a hiss of disgust. Not particularly wanting to hear the reply, she turned and stormed into the gymnasium. She paused as everyone in the vast room had turned to stare at her.

"Oh, please," she snarled. "I'm not that desperate."

The crowd of eyes made an effort to turn away.

"Alright, gang," Jason called from the gymnasium doors, his gaze glued to his clipboard. "Thanks to mother nature we get to do an entire theory lesson. I just know everyone's bursting to study muscle injuries and first aid…"

The class groaned.

"So let's get our books out and – " He stopped, finally looking up from his clipboard, narrowly avoiding smacking straight into Beclyn. He stared at her; she raised an eyebrow back at him. "Miss Jones?" he muttered in a whisper, the colour draining from his face.

"Hey there, coachie," she greeted him with a smirk. Lamae was right; his expression was hilarious.

Jason continued to stare. For a moment, he lifted his clipboard a few inches as if contemplating smacking her over the head to check that she wasn't an apparition. Instead, he held it to his chest and crossed his arms.

"Didn't expect to see you here today," he told her honestly.

Beclyn shrugged. "It's just sport."

"That's not what I meant," he pressed.

"Something tells me you're going to be seeing a lot more of me," Beclyn stated, narrowing her eyes.

Sean and Ryan tramped into the hall, recovering from a sudden fist fight, judging by the newly accumulated bruises.

"Boys," Jason snapped, forcing his concentration from Beclyn, "class started five minutes ago. Think you're the exception to the crowd?"

"Sorry, sir," Sean mumbled through a swollen lip.

It was obvious who'd won the punch up as Ryan threw a wink at Beclyn.

Beclyn turned away from the group to make herself comfortable on the ground, ignoring Jason's ongoing orders.

"Right," Jason called. "Everyone find a space on the floor – no, don't sit on the gym mats. The gymnastics team must have left them out. We don't have time to put them away. I know the floor's hard and uncomfortable, but you're young and you can deal with it. No, Sean, you _don't_ need a chair. What do you mean you think you've broken your arm? Girls, we don't paint our nails during class. Ryan, I told you to get away from those mats! _Come on, class started almost ten minutes ago_!"

Beclyn let out a disinterested yawn. It was going to be a very long and boring lesson.

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**I've almost finished the next chapter. The more reviews I get, the faster you get it. Wah! I just realised my paragraph dividers aren't working! So unprofessional of me not to have paragraph breaks. I'm sorry if the chapter seems confusing because of it! Have they not been working for a while?  
**

**Oh, and I made blueberry muffins if anyone wants one. **


	20. Chapter 20

**I'm so hungry and over this cold. I have assignments galore to work on this week. If you thought senior year in high school was hard, wait until you meet uni lecturers. They're nine types of scary. Oh, and because the next season of Supernatural barely exists yet, I've been keeping myself company with the Vampire Diaries. Damon Salvatore is practically next to Dean on the hotness scale. Just sayin'. **

**Warning: sexual themes, swearing, violence, ideologically sensitive**

**OOO  
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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 20**

Despite Coach Teague protesting at the beginning of the lesson, Ryan had stayed sitting on the blue gym mats and had spent most of class trying to catch Beclyn's eye. He had tried everything, from calling out witty remarks to the teacher, to boasting about all of his sporting achievements to gain her attention. Instead of receiving hard-earned laughs, he was left in the shade as Coach kept glowering at Beclyn for some reason. Every few seconds the teacher would drag his gaze around the class before snapping it back to her. It wasn't like she had done anything to deserve the attention – apart from yawning a few times and complaining loudly about how 'writing' was the arch-nemesis of sport.

About half way through the lesson, when the majority of the class had decided napping was better than jotting down the correct way to apply ice to a wound, Ryan had a brilliant idea. He punched his best friend in the arm, waking him from a doze.

"Dude, what the f – " Sean started awake with a snort.

"Shut up," Ryan ordered, digging through his friend's bag.

Sean stared blankly, still drowsy. "What are you…?"

Ryan pulled a cell phone from the bag. He would have used his own, but phones weren't allowed in class and he knew Sean was the only person who never paid attention to rules. Without wasting time, he punched in what he thought was the number of the sports department.

"Don't take too long," Sean growled, shoving him roughly. "I'm way over my limit already."

Holding a finger to his lips, Ryan had to wait five rings before someone answered. "Hello?" a rough female voice snapped into the phone.

"Ah, yes. This is the principal. I need to speak to Coachi… I mean, Coach Teague," Ryan replied, choking on a snort of amusement.

Silence, and then, "This is the math department."

"Ohh…" Ryan murmured, his face falling as he felt his cunning plan crumble. "I was wanting to speak to Coach Teague."

Another long silence. "Jason Teague. Well, he's in class now, but I suppose I could get him for you if it's urgent…"

Ryan sucked in a breath, not believing his good luck. "Yeah, that would be great." It didn't bother him how a math teacher knew a sport coach was in a lesson.

Several minutes ticked past with Coach Teague rambling on about how 'Dr. Abcd' is the thing to remember during CPR when finally an older, female teacher entered the gymnasium.

"Mrs Hardy," Coach Teague greeted. "What can I do for you?"

"There's an urgent phone call for you from the principal," she told him. She waited until he had nodded and was walking past her that she flirtatiously whispered, "And it's _Miss _Hardy." Instead of watching the class, she followed him out the door, continuing to make saucy comments.

"Thank Christ!" Ryan exploded, launching to his feet. He felt a pang of impatience as everyone except Beclyn turned to look. He had to turn up his performance a notch. "Ladies and gentleman," he exclaimed while gesturing to the gym mats, "I welcome you to Smallville High's first ever fighting competition!"

Several giggles erupted from the girls as the guys leaned forward, intrigued. Beclyn didn't do anything but yawn.

"Rules are simple – no hitting below the belt and last person standing wins," he continued, jabbing a finger at the huddled group of guys. "I doubt any of you can take me down."

As the guys chattered excitedly, Ryan couldn't help but grin to himself. He was by far the strongest person of the group and could beat any of his classmates hands-down. If Beclyn saw how strong and powerful he was, she would instantly fall in love with him and practically beg him to take her to the Halloween dance.

"I'll take you on!" Sean announced, jumping onto the mats.

For a split second, Beclyn turned their way, her eyes lighting up with something close to interest. It was all Ryan needed to boost his ego.

"Let's go!" Ryan roared, throwing the first punch.

Sean let out a cry as the fist collided with his already tender jaw, making him lose his footing.

"Jesus," he swore breathlessly from the ground. "You could have told me you were serious."

"There's no time for weaklings like you," Ryan spat at him, his heart pounding as he noticed Beclyn had swivelled to watch. "Who's next?"

The next few minutes were spent challenging and battering every male in the class into submission. The first few had been easy wins, but he was starting to need some unorthodox moves to win against the larger guys – the type of moves that left them gasping and hunched over, shielding their groins. He felt his ego swell with pride as the girls cheered and called his name - his own personal cheerleaders. Despite his overwhelming success, Ryan realised class had ended over two minutes ago and everyone was starting to lose interest; that, and he was running out of contestants.

"Come on," he called, slightly desperate. "You pussies aren't giving up now, are you?" He glanced around the crowd, noticing it was larger than just the sports class. Other classes must have ended and wanted to join in on the commotion. Nobody volunteered. "Are you scared or something?" he continued, grabbing at straws. "You call yourselves men?"

Panic itched at his nerves. Just _one_ more contestant and Beclyn would throw herself at him. Why was no one willing to fight? He glanced around the mats. Giles was standing to the side, clearly enjoying the performance.

"Get over here, Git," Ryan snarled. "Think you can get away with just watching?"

Giles backed away, suddenly pale.

Sean joined in. "Grab him!" he ordered two jocks.

The two jocks lunged on him. Giles let out a squeal of fear. He kicked and twisted, begging them to let him go.

Ryan smirked. This was going to be fun.

Giles continued to fight feebly against the two jocks, his skinny limbs achieving little against the heavily built males.

The crowd had started to chant for Giles to fight, enjoying the cruel amusement.

"Ready to feel pain?" Ryan sneered as Giles cowered away. He lifted his leg, ready to go in for the first blow against the unprotected contestant. "Get on the floor and beg for – " he started.

"_I'll verse you_," a voice suddenly called out through the crowd.

Ryan hesitated, suddenly furious that someone would interrupt his fun. "Who said that?" he demanded.

"I said," the voice snapped, not pausing as onlookers turned in their spots to find the speaker. "I'll verse you."

**OOO**

Beclyn didn't know why she said it. The scrawny kid's yelps had pushed her over the edge, but she wasn't sure why she wanted the jock to feel the burning humiliation of pain so much.

Standing forward, she crossed her arms and glowered at Ryan. The jock's jaw fell slack as his eyes widened.

"You wanna verse me?" he asked, confused.

"You deaf?" she snarled, climbing onto the mats.

His head jerked at the insult before he smiled cruelly. "You realise you have no chance of winning against me?"

The crowd had become silent, captivated by the scene.

Ryan abruptly hurtled himself across the mats, his fist swinging back as if ready to hit. A second later there was a sickening crunch followed by a grunt of pain.

Beclyn remained standing as he hit the floor. "You left your entire right side open," she scolded, crossing her arms as if she hadn't just delivered a bone-breaking punch.

Ryan groaned as he clutched his torso. He glanced up, his eyes glazed with rage and something else. It wasn't until he was standing and Beclyn noticed how tight his pants had become that she knew what that other feeling was.

Ignoring the tent in his pants, she called to the crowd, "Who's next?"

"Me!"

She turned, rolling her eyes as she caught sight of her sister standing on the corner of the mat.

"What do you think you're doing, Lae?" Beclyn demanded, rolling her eyes. "When did you get here?"

"I've been waiting outside for ages," Lamae protested, "and besides, I can't let you have all the fun."

Beclyn rolled her eyes for the second time. "This isn't a game. If you want to verse me, then you can. You've just got to know that I won't go easy on you."

For the first time since Beclyn had met her sister, Lamae raised an eyebrow and smirked.

The crowd suddenly burst to life.

"Bets on Jones!" someone called. "I've got twenty – no, fifty on Jones!"

"No way!" somebody else retorted. "Nerds are full of rage, man. They're like Chinese ninjas."

"I say Jones has Makra down in ten seconds."

"Are you kidding? I say five seconds and the blood will run!"

Sean appeared in between the girls. "Now, ladies, I want a nice fair fight," he told them with a grin. "Which means I want shirts off, bikinis on and who's got a bucket of mud?"

"Get on with it!" a voice yelled.

Sean leapt out of the way, ready for violence. For the second time, the massive crowd settled down.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Beclyn asked Lamae, knowing full well that the crowd didn't give her a choice.

"We'll see," she answered.

Beclyn charged forward, aiming for the throat. The crowd let out a gasp as Lamae easily dodged. Beclyn swung again. Lamae ducked, hitting her sister in the stomach. Beclyn let out a gasp in unison with the crowd.

Lamae stood back, hands on her hips. "You're not using your body effec – " she started, but instead let out a shriek as Beclyn let out a roar and crash-tackled her.

The crowd gaped in awe as there was a sudden blur of limbs. Bones crunched and cries of pain ensued, but neither of the girls backed down.

After a few moments of flailing arms, vicious snarls of anger and a multitude of pained groans, the girls separated to observe the inflicted damage.

"Giving up?" Beclyn sneered, despite the many bruises now lacing her arms and legs.

Lamae grinned back, ignoring the bleeding cut on the edge of her lip.

Beclyn charged again. Instead of receiving another hit to the stomach, Beclyn swivelled and went to back-kick Lamae. Her eyes widened as Lamae grabbed her ankle in both hands, twisting it easily. Hissing, Beclyn retaliated by kicking the side of Lamae's shins, making her sister topple down with her.

Suddenly, a shrill whistle pierced the hall. Several people groaned and snarled complaints as Jason pushed through the crowd, his face contorted in fury. Instead of ceasing the fight, the girls continued to attack each other.

"Makra, Jones!" Jason barked, hurriedly shoving people out of the way to reach the mats.

Lamae let out a cry as a fist collided with her chin. Beclyn swore as her sister kicked her in the ribs.

"I said _enough_!" Jason roared, silencing any leftover chatter. The girls stopped, their faces blank as if only just realising he was there.

"Come with me," he ordered them, his face as hot as his temper.

Beclyn smirked, climbing to her feet before offering a hand to help her sister from the ground. "Trust you to come and ruin the fun, Coachie."

Jason's glare narrowed as he gritted his teeth. "My office. _Now_."

As he began to walk away, Lamae took Beclyn's hand. She stood with a groan.

Beclyn pulled her hand away to wipe a blood splotch from her shirt. "Think he's being serious?" she asked.

Lamae stared fearfully in her boyfriend's direction. "We are so dead."

"Brilliant," Beclyn said with a sigh, noticing the large red patch of blood on her sister's arm. "If he asks, you started it."

**OOO**

**I got one review for the last chapter. It was a good review, but I wouldn't mind a bit of feedback. This excludes my fabulous reviewer as she is completely awesome and is always asking for fanservice, but can I ask that everyone else who reads this just leave a few words? I know it's mean of me to ask but I need something to boost my ego. **

**Review or no cookies for you.**


	21. Chapter 21

**It's been a long time since I posted a chapter. The reason being… Well, there isn't actually a reason. I could talk about exams, cleaning the house, holidays… but really it just comes down to me being lazy. Oh, and I've been hooked on watching the latest Supernatural season. Is it me or did Sam gain a few masculine points? –drools at shirtless Sam—Remember back when he had the cute puppy eyes? Yeah, neither can I. **

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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 21**

The walk to Jason's office felt like a marathon run. Lamae kept rubbing her arm, knowing there was a giant splotch of blood where her forearm met her collarbone. She'd have to check it later, maybe even take some medication just to be sure. She couldn't be too careful with her condition.

Throwing an anxious glance at her sister, she realised Beclyn seemed less than concerned with the situation as she swaggered down the hall. It was alright for Beclyn; she had never seen Jason this angry. Then again, neither had Lamae.

Finally arriving at the sports office, Jason closed the door quietly before swivelling to glower at the girls. His glare honed in on Beclyn. "Do you mind telling me why you girls thought it was a good idea to start ripping into each other half way through my class?" he snarled.

"Well, if you want to get technical, it wasn't half way through the class. Besides, you were the one who walked out on a group of dumb, bored teenagers and expected them to sit still," Beclyn sniped.

Lamae watched as Jason's face reddened. Why did Beclyn have to rile him up when he was already cranky?

"I expected better from my girlfriend and her sister," Jason scowled, crossing his arms.

"It was a consensual beating," Beclyn pointed out. "There's no point yelling at me just because I won a fighting match against your girlfriend – "

Lamae gawked. "You didn't win!"

"Rules were that the first person to hit the ground…"

"Ladies – " Jason tried to interrupt.

"But you were on the ground first!" Lamae ignored him.

Beclyn rolled her eyes. "I was not the first one on the ground. Besides, it would have been fairer if I knew you could fight."

"It was a requirement at my old school to know how to attack and defend. If anything, the fight was a disadvantage to me because you were using moves which could instantly kill."

"Girls, could you stop…?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Beclyn moaned sarcastically. "Every time I go up against a werewolf or a vampire I don't think, 'Hmm. Maybe I should treat them like a little child and let them beat me.'"

"There's a difference between – "

"GIRLS!" Jason exploded, shooting a glare between the twins.

Lamae and Beclyn stopped.

"No more fighting on the school grounds," he ordered, raising a finger to jab at them. "I don't want to be hearing about two senior students trying to kill each other. Got it?"

Beclyn sneered. "Like we'd kill each-"

"Now hurry up and get to class," he told them, ignoring Beclyn as he opened the door. Conversation over.

"Like he'd understand," Beclyn groaned once they were walking down the hall. "I bet he's never been in a fight in his life."

"What do you have next?" Lamae asked, clutching her shoulder.

Beclyn raised an eyebrow. "Your arm okay?"

Lamae fidgeted under her sister's watchful gaze. "I'm fine. It just needs a bandaid." She let out a groan as she remembered her timetable. "I have maths up next. Mrs Hardy is going to _kill_ me for being late."

"I thought she was _Miss_ Hardy?" Beclyn asked.

Throwing an inquisitive glance at her sister, Lamae responded, "What made you think that?"

Beclyn paused for a moment. "Nothing."

Lamae bit her lip, curious. "But you don't even know that teacher. How are you supposed to – ?"

"So, I've got home economics," Beclyn suddenly stated, ducking down the nearest hall. "See you after class!"

"But…" Lamae began, but stopped as she realised it was useless. Sighing, she poked her arm and cringed as her nerves reacted.

Maybe medication couldn't wait.

OOO

Beclyn sat with her feet on the desk in front, her gaze flitting around the room as if only just realising the horror of the classroom. There were ten students in total. All girls. They wore frilly, pink skirts and laced, white shirts, and were deep in discussion about the joys of cake baking, clothes designing and cookie decorating.

She tuned into the conversation behind her.

"… it was so gorgeous," one of the girls cried enthusiastically. "It had pearls, silk and was the most stunning lilac colour."

"Oh, that's like what I made for my little sister only it was puce," the other girl responded just as joyfully.

"And the debutant ball went perfectly. There was the greatest assortment of cakes. I just had to ask the cook for her decorating techniques…"

Beclyn's expression morphed to disbelief. "I'm in Hell…" she groaned.

"Good morning, everyone!" a bright, chirpy voice filled the classroom.

"Good morning, Mrs Belle," the girls responded in unison.

"Definitely Hell," Beclyn decided to herself.

The teacher clasped her hands at the front of the desks and beamed. "I have some good news, girls."

There was an instant outburst of excited chatter and giggling.

"I spoke to the retirement village and they said they were thrilled with our 'bake a cake' fundraiser," she stated, pleased.

Another wave of animated chatter.

"Since we worked so hard last week, I decided today should be a relax day," she announced, glancing around the class. "There're recipes in the cabinets and all the ingredients are in the storage cupboard. So…" She paused, moving her hand to cup her ear as if trying to hear something.

"… let's get cooking!" the class called, finishing in a loud round of applause.

"There's a class motto," Beclyn sighed sceptically. "Brilliant."

There was a rattle of chairs and a scamper of feet as the girls made their way to what must have been the cabinets. Beclyn stood and made her way to the cabinets as the last group of girls decided between cookies or self-saucing pudding. As they noticed Beclyn approaching, they quickly whispered something about leather and her jacket before quickly choosing the self-saucing pudding recipe. Beclyn stared at the cookie recipe. Cookies couldn't be that hard to make. Lamae had baked an entire batch on the weekend, and if Lamae could do it, she could do it.

Grabbing the piece of paper, Beclyn turned and made her way to one of the cooking benches. The other girls were already pouring ingredients into silver bowls and enthusing about decorations they were going to use.

Sniffing distastefully, Beclyn glanced at the first line.

_Place three tablespoons of butter into bowl. _

Opening the largest cupboard, Beclyn removed what she thought looked like a bowl. Moving to the drawers, she stared at the eating utensils. One of the spoons had to have 'table' written on it.

It was at that moment she had a brilliant idea. She presumed Clark was something paranormal. If she fed him something salty, she could deduce what he was by how he reacted. It would look suspicious if she gave him something random and obviously covered with sodium. Cookies, however…

She quickly marched to the storage cupboard and searched the contents. It didn't take long to find a new bag of salt.

Returning to her cook bench, she poured the entire contents into the mixing bowl.

"Next step," she told herself, suddenly very cheerful.

* * *

**Short chapter. Full of fluff and devious plans. For those who didn't read Deadly Betrayal (why are you even here?), Beclyn's cooking skills have yet to be acquired. Even if Clark isn't allergic to salt, he's going to be under the table with food poisoning. **

**I'll try to get the next chapter up. Reviews are a treasured gift and I love them as much as I love nude shower scenes of Dean. Think of it as an early birthday present –puppy eyes-. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Hello again! Truth be told I've had this chapter ready for a while. I was incredibly lazy and decided not to post this until I finished another few chapters (just in case there were plot issues). **

**There's really not much to say. Dean is gorgeous. That is all. **

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**Deadly Secret **

**Chapter 22**

Despite arriving late to maths, Lamae felt the lesson had passed without too many issues or brain melt-downs. She had left class and wandered over to collect Beclyn from the home economics class, but the teacher had shooed her away, saying one of her students was having a 'temporary mental breakdown'. Hoping that Beclyn hadn't tried to set the school on fire, she made her way to the Torch office and booted up her computer.

There were files she needed to sort, the extra article to finish, the leads Chloe had given her to follow up, the cover page of the next issue to design, and a few emails to send around to everyone – mostly consisting of cat pictures. Several minutes passed as she worked, not noticing as her sister finally stumbled into the room. Lamae jumped as a tray covered in black chunks slammed onto her desk.

"Ta-da!" Beclyn proclaimed proudly.

Lamae glanced at the tray before slowly moving her confused gaze to her twin's beaming face.

Beclyn frowned. "They're cookies," she stated.

Lamae glanced back to the tray of bite-sized charcoal lumps.

Placing her hands on her hips, Beclyn smirked. "There's a secret surprise. Go ahead and try one."

Pausing, Lamae's hand twitched. It was suddenly obvious why the Winchesters had been hesitant to try the cookies she'd baked on the weekend. Smiling nervously, she took one and popped it in her mouth.

The sensation was… intense. At first she thought she could taste a hint of vanilla, but it was quickly replaced by something hot. The burnt lump broke apart in her mouth, her tongue already swelling as the dangerous concoction attacked her tender taste buds. She chewed, wondering if chomping down on glass would be less excruciating.

Beclyn waited patiently, her gaze concentrated firmly on her sister.

Lamae licked her lips, suddenly panicking as she tasted something metallic.

"Well?" Beclyn finally asked.

Lamae rubbed her lips with the back of her hand. "I think my gums are bleeding," she whispered hoarsely.

Beclyn rolled her eyed. "Don't be melodramatic. I only broke one of the glass measuring cups."

"Why do I taste chilli?" Lamae muttered.

"Oh, that. I misread one of the ingredients. Cinnamon reads like chilli to me," Beclyn answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "The important thing is that I added salt."

Lamae froze. "Salt?"

Nodding, Beclyn continued. "There's enough salt in these things to make _any_ supernatural creature react. All I need to do is give Clark one of these and it'll show us what he's hiding."

Lamae licked her sensitive gums. They probably _were_ bleeding. She hoped her sister hadn't misread one of the other ingredients as poison.

Clark suddenly appeared in the doorway, a friendly smile touching his lips as he saw the twins.

"Hey, guys..." he started, but froze as Beclyn grabbed the tray of cookies off Lamae's desk and leapt towards him.

"Try one," Beclyn ordered, shoving the tray towards his face.

Clark blinked, then grinned. "Thanks, Beclyn. I love chocolate cookies!" He threw one into his mouth before Lamae could warn him of the threat the treats held.

"Whoever said they were chocolate?" Beclyn asked, her eye twitching. "Can't you tell they're peanut butter?"

Clark chewed once, then stopped. "I can see that now," he stated, his face paling slightly.

Beclyn leaned forward, a sneer twisting her lips. "Jeez, Clark. You look kind of sick."

Clark's face struggled to produce a smile. "I'm just wondering why peanut butter cookies are black."

Another dismissive wave from Beclyn. "The oven couldn't turn on so I had to find another way to cook them."

"In the microwave?" Clark suggested.

"Frypan," she corrected. "It was going great until they caught fire. One of the girls cooking behind me started screaming when I turned around and accidentally almost hit her in the face with the pan." Shrugging her shoulders, Beclyn scowled, "How was I supposed to know she had a phobia of fire? Seems a bit stupid when she's cooking all day. Ovens have flames, don't they?"

Clark stared at her, his mouth slightly agape.

Lamae stood, terrified that Clark would spontaneously combust. "I'll go make some coffee to wash it down."

Beclyn waved a hand at her sister. "I'll do it." As she walked past Lamae, she whispered, "Keep an eye on him. If smoke starts coming from his mouth, call me back."

Swallowing, Lamae muttered, "I don't really want to be an accomplice to murder..."

Standing before she could hear her sister's words, Beclyn loudly called, "Coffee machine's just next door, right? You just sit tight, Clark. I'll make you one of those fancy-named drinks."

As Beclyn left, Lamae stood and approached Clark. "Here," she told him, holding out a tissue. "I think it'd be best to spit it out. There has to be enough salt in these things to exceed the daily dietary intake ten times over."

"Thanks." Clark offered a weak smile. He wiped his mouth as he moved to sit behind his desk. "I'll think twice before taking any food offered by Beclyn in the future..."

"Son of a bitch!" Beclyn yelled from the next room.

There was a long string of loud profanities before Beclyn appeared in the doorway, clutching her right hand.

"Frigging coffee machine boiled over and spilt on my hand. Hurt like all fu..." She caught her tongue as she saw Lamae. "...fudging heck."

"Yeah, you've got to be careful about the coffee machines here. If you think that one's bad, you should see the one at the Talon. Lana swears it almost bit her once," Lamae explained.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Beclyn said, "Why don't you just replace the stupid thing? It's probably more dangerous than an actual weap– " She abruptly stopped. "You know what?" she announced, suddenly cheerful. "I've kept those coffees waiting long enough. Let me go grab them."

As she left the room, Lamae turned to Clark and muttered, "That seemed a bit... weird."

Clark nodded in reply, throwing anxious glances at the door.

Beclyn reappeared with three cups and a glass jug of coffee. "Here we go," she said, placing a cup beside Clark's hand. Tilting her head towards the window, she exclaimed, "I can't believe how hot it is today!" She began to tip the jug, only just missing the cup to pour over Clark's fingers.

"Beclyn!" Lamae shrieked, rushing forward to pull her sister back.

"Oh, no!" Beclyn cried out, knocking the empty cup off the desk as she jumped. "I'm so sorry, Clark. I didn't even see what I was doing..."

Before Clark could reply, Lamae grabbed her sister's hand and tugged her into the hallway.

"Are you mad?" Lamae demanded, her voice shrill with disbelief.

"Didn't you see that?" Beclyn seethed, not at all apologetic as she tossed the leftover cups in the bin. "He just sat there. He didn't even realize I was pouring it on his hand. That stuff is hot enough to strip paint off walls and he didn't feel a thing."

"You did that on purpose?" Lamae gaped.

Crossing her arms, Beclyn's lips twisted into a smirk. "What, you think I'm as clumsy as you?"

Feeling flustered, Lamae cried, "You poured hot coffee over one of my friends!"

"Yeah," Beclyn said, "but now we know he's definitely not human. Even a quadriplegic would realize they're hand's being roasted."

Lamae bit her lip. "Actually quadriplegics..." She stopped as Lois wandered past. Lamae raised a hand to wave.

As soon as Lois was inside the Torch office, Beclyn continued. "So he's not something that reacts to salt. That narrows it down." She tapped her chin, deep in thought. "He could be a werewolf."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Lamae muttered, "That's not possible. Lois is allergic to dogs."

A string of sneezes erupted from the Torch office before Lois snapped, "Keep away from me, Farmboy. You reek of dog."

Beclyn's gaze shot towards the Torch office, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Lamae's shoulders slumped. So much for logic. "Does this mean I have to buy dog food?"

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**Another chapter of cooking. I'm sure Lamae actually knows dog food won't attract werewolves, but she has to try hard to suit Beclyn's logic. **

**I've noticed I have almost completely ignored Sam and Dean by giving them very little dialogue. Maybe it's because this story is more based on the Smallville setting and I'm still getting used to the brothers cropping up. I do feel guilty about it, really. At least Sammy is still the sweet, caring boyish character instead of the psychopathic monstrosity he is now (though the shirtless scenes are nice). **

**Oh, and major warnings for the next chapter. M for 18 years or over. Very serious themes and horrific imagery. No, seriously – naked jerk alert –**_**mind does not want**_**-. But, hey, anyone who read Deadly Betrayal knows that I throw in a few themes which could make me a candidate for the psychopath patrol. Don't say I didn't warn you. **


	23. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER RATED M. MATURE READERS ONLY. **

**Warning: adult themes, swearing, gore, sexual abuse**

**o-o-o  
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**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 23**

Ryan Daniels leant his forehead against the cool metal of the locker. Pearls of sweat dotted his skin, his hands pale and shaky as he clenched them into fists. He hadn't had a solid night's sleep for several days, and it was beginning to show.

Beclyn Jones had been dominating his dreams since the fight several days ago. Each night she would come to him, naked and smirking, ready to pound him into submission – and each morning he would wake up with a raging hard-on which no hand but hers could please.

It was humiliating enough that he couldn't even get her to fall for him, but now he was tormented by erotic dreams full of pleasure and pain. How could he think to show his face around school again if he couldn't win this bet? He'd been certain he'd have her in his bed within three days; now there were only precious hours left until pay-out time, and the guys were already beginning to sneer. Even then, it was no longer a testosterone-fuelled battle. He _wanted_ her. It was a new experience for him to crave a girl. Sex was plentiful and easy to get. He had slept with over five girls that week alone to try and satisfy his urges, but if it wasn't Beclyn, it was hopeless. One more rejection from her and he would…

"Well, hello, Ryan," a deep, sultry voice greeted from behind.

Ryan swept around, hopeful to see the woman of his dreams, but instead let out a hiss of disgust when he saw Valerie Shaine.

"What do you want?" he snarled.

Valerie pouted. "Why so nasty?" she asked, running a finger over his shoulder. "You weren't like that last night when my mouth was around – "

"That was last night," Ryan cut her off, knocking her hand away.

Sniffing, Valerie snapped, "Okay, fine. I see you're not in a romantic mood. I just came to say that we'll be going as a naughty angel and demon to the Halloween Dance."

It was Ryan's turn to sniff. "_'We'_?"

"Oh, don't play dumb – it's _so_ cliché," Valerie sneered. "We both know that you've been wanting to ask me for a while, so after last night's performance, I'm just skipping ahead and making the plans so that you don't screw up and come as a zombie or something icky-gross – got it?"

Ryan grimaced. The only reason he had been so rough and needy was because he had been pretending she was Beclyn.

"I'm having the costumes ordered from overseas, and we're _so_ going to need to get you designer shoes, and—hey!" she cried out as he shoved her out of the way.

He was going to go to the Halloween Dance with Beclyn. He wanted her, and Ryan Daniels always got what he wanted.

**o-o-o**

"Okay, so the dog food, garlic, silver, salt and cross didn't work," Lamae listed on a hand, "so what else could he possibly be?"

Beclyn lay sprawled across Lamae's desk, gazing at the roof. "What about if he was an alpha?"

Lamae paused as she made a move to sit on her chair. "An alpha – like the ruler of the species?"

"Yeah." In one swift move, Beclyn was sitting, her chin resting on a knee. "Normal triggers wouldn't work because he's past all that or found out ways to counter-act it."

Biting her lip, Lamae said, "I don't think it would be wise to go up against an alpha. Besides, why would an alpha creature be posing as a teenager in a country-town high school?"

Beclyn rubbed her chin, her eyes gazing off into the distance. "He could be hunting students."

"That doesn't make sense. No students have gone missing without a known reason."

"He could be building an army," Beclyn responded.

"By recruiting students in one of the least populated areas in Kansas?"

Beclyn let out a hiss. "I'm thinking, okay? There has to be a reason that this guy has superhuman powers."

"He could be an alien," Lamae suggested with a shrug. She cried out as Beclyn flicked her on the forehead. "It's a plausible hypothesis!" she argued in a whimper.

"Shut up, he's coming," Beclyn ordered, grabbing a book off the table and holding it to her face as if she had been reading the entire time.

Before Lamae could object, Clark appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, guys," he greeted warmly. "What are you doing?"

Lamae smiled, then let out a sigh. "Nothing. Beclyn was just telling me how she thinks you're an alien."

Beclyn dropped the book. "_What?"_ she thundered. Her gaze shot to Clark before returning to Lamae. "Why would you say that?"

"I've decided to end your obsession before it becomes dangerous," Lamae retaliated, crossing her arms in front of her chest in what she hoped seemed an authoritative pose.

"_You_…" Beclyn snarled, hesitating on an insult. Instead, she quickly jumped to her feet and marched over to Clark. She jabbed a finger in his face. "I may not know what you are, but I'm watching you," she warned, before storming out of the room.

Clark blinked. He waited until she was a safe distance away before exclaiming, "What was that about?"

Lamae shook her head with a shrug. "It's Beclyn. She's a conspiracy theorist." Standing, she continued, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd better find her before she starts proclaiming the math teacher is a Satanist."

**o-o-o**

"_Goddamn stupid idiot of a moron_!" Beclyn hissed under her breath as she stormed down the hallway.

Beclyn had been certain Clark was something paranormal. If it hadn't been for Lamae's outburst, Beclyn could have run a few more tests. But no, her sister just had to stand up for the jerk and ruin her plans.

"She could have warned me that she was going to say it," she seethed, turning a corner. "Now he knows I'm onto him. Everyone could be in danger!"

Beclyn didn't notice as Ryan Daniels appeared at the end of the hall. His gaze brightened for a moment as he stepped forward and grabbed her arm.

"Well, hello…" he began, but was cut short as Beclyn harshly twisted from his grip.

"Back off, asshole. I'm sick of your games," she snarled without stopping.

Ryan's gaze hardened to a dark and menacing glare. A vein twitched on the side of his temple.

"Beclyn!" Lamae's voice filled the hallway. Running footsteps sounded as her sister followed in a sprint. "There you are!" she cried out as she caught up, her face flushed with exertion. "I didn't tell Clark those things to be mean to you, it's just that you were starting to do things that were dangerous, and…"

Rolling her eyes, Beclyn pointed out, "You can't deny that there's something up with that guy. He can see through walls, ignore scalding coffee and—"

Ryan stepped forward, grabbing Beclyn's wrist in a tight grip. "I need to talk to you."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Beclyn growled, turning on him. "No means no, buddy. Go find some other chick to stroke your ego."

Ryan's face paled. "_You fucking whore_!" he roared, twisting her wrist and lunging at her throat.

Beclyn gasped for air as his fingers clamped around her neck. He released her wrist and started undoing his jeans.

"I'll show you what a man I am!" he snarled, spittle bubbling at his lips as his face morphed into a mask of fury. "If it means that I have to take you in the middle of a hallway then I will!"

His pants fell to his ankles, shortly followed by his boxers. His fist slammed into Beclyn's jaw abruptly. Lamae screamed in the background. Beclyn felt a stinging pain from the punch. Tiny droplets of blood appeared under his nails. Her gaze blurred. A few seconds more and she would lose consciousness.

"..._everything I do to you, you deserve_..." a voice echoed inside her head.

A moment of panic overwhelmed Beclyn as Ryan's face morphed into the monster that had plagued her nightmares. She remembered the desolate house, the dusty room, the iron bed, the rusty spring in the mattress - but most of all, she remembered _him_.

Ryan let out a cry of pain as Beclyn twisted his arm sharply. His cheek smacked onto the ground as she shoved him to the floor.

"Hey, what the fu-" he started to shout, but was cut off as a loud crack echoed down the hall.

A large bone jutted from his arm, blood pouring from the wound in gushes as Beclyn put more pressure on the shattered limb. He let out a scream of agony as his writhing jarred the bone.

"Come at me again and I'll tear it off," she warned in a whisper, forcing more bone from the flesh.

Then she stopped.

Ryan choked on a sob as he cradled his broken arm, his face a mask of pain. Beclyn ignored him as he began to cry for help. Instead, she turned to face her sister.

"Come on, Lae-" she started, but faltered.

Lamae had her hands over her face, her skin pale. Sweat ran in rivulets down her temples, her breath catching as if she was hyperventilating.

Beclyn guessed her sister had only a few moments before she covered the floor with her stomach's contents.

Grabbing Lamae's hand, she wrenched her towards the bathroom. As she opened the bathroom door, Lamae shot towards the closest cubicle, choking as she threw up.

"Jeez, Lae," Beclyn smirked, turning on a faucet to wash the blood from her hands. "It was just a broken arm. I've seen worse on TV."

Another wave of retching.

"At least I don't have to worry about him anymore," Beclyn stated, her brow creasing into a frown. "And if he even tries to report me, I'll accuse him of rape and say that it was self-defence..."

"Stop," Lamae whimpered, her voice cracking. "Please... Just stop."

Beclyn raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come on." She approached the occupied cubicle, crossing her arms as she watched her sister. "It's not like the guy didn't deserve it..."

"I saw him, Beclyn," Lamae murmured, brushing hair from her face. "He just took his pants off and... he was just there, completely in the open."

"What?" Beclyn asked, pausing. "His dick?" She let out a sneer. "I really wouldn't call that a testament to his masculinity. That was more like..." She faltered, suddenly solemn. "Oh, yeah. I forgot you had that whole fear of sex thing."

Lamae turned, resting her head against the painted cubicle wall. "You don't understand. That's the reason why I'm afraid of anything sexual."

She closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh. "When I was six, I was at home and bored. The maids never talked to me and I hadn't been outside in days."

She swallowed, struggling to continue. "I wasn't allowed in Dad's study, but I was desperate for any form of entertainment. There was a television and an entire cabinet of tapes. I thought they were movies so I put one on. At first there was static, and then..."

She clasped her hands, her gaze training at the other wall. "It was a home movie of a girl and two men. They were doing things to her – stuff like hitting her, shoving things into her, mutilating her body... The first man was an upcoming politician – someone my mother endorsed and funded. The other was my father."

She took a deep breath before turning her gaze to Beclyn. "My mother found me in front of the screen. She screamed, threatened and beat me half to death before telling me that's what sex is – a twisted, horrible game of pain and torture. She has never let me forget what I saw and that it could happen to me."

Beclyn turned away, her face somber as she processed the details. "And the girl...?"

"Twelve years old. Parents didn't file a missing person's report. I found out a few years later that my Dad had been buying children to do... that."

Beclyn shot a glare to her sister. "He never did anything like that to you, did he?"

Lamae smiled sadly. "I couldn't imagine what would happen if he had and it got leaked to the press. They were the golden parents of the upper-class world. My guess is he wouldn't risk it. That, and I was sent to a boarding school at the age of twelve."

"What a happy family," Beclyn muttered sarcastically.

Wiping her mouth, Lamae brightly added, "But you were amazing out there. You barely blinked and had everything under control in seconds."

Beclyn smirked. "Of course. It's not like he was Jamison."

Before Lamae could reply, she sighed and said, "I say this whole situation has given us permission to take the rest of the day off." Offering a hand to assist her sister, she continued, "I dunno about you, but I could do with a shower and a long nap."

**o-o-o**


	24. Chapter 24

**Man, I am so peeved off at the symbol system for my chapters. The site removed the majority of my scene breakers so everything runs together. This either means I have to go back and change everything by removing and re-uploading chapters, or I just let it sit there and be an eyesore. Fabulous stuff. Oh, well. At least the site's been good with everything else.**

**On a more serious note, this chapter contains very mature themes. If you prefer light and fluffy things, just substitute the word 'raped' with 'frolicking', and picture butterflies and happy songs for when the conversations get dark and nasty. Then again, I'm betting the rest of the audience chose this story for the gritty detail. **

**Oh, and I'm sorry if there have been mistakes throughout the last few chapters. Computer problems - or more specifically, Microsoft Word problems. It changed somber to sombrero and the like without me realizing. Although, I could see Dean in a Mexican hat.  
**

**WARNING: Adult themes, swearing. CHAPTER RATED M.**

* * *

**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 24**

Lamae had decided to return home, stating that she had to prepare dinner and clean the house. Beclyn didn't blame Lamae for wanting some time alone. It had been a rough day, and the approaching storm clouds made it obvious that an early night was imminent.

Despite leaving school early, Beclyn didn't arrive back at the hotel until late in the afternoon. Cursing the long walk, Beclyn fished the door keys from her jacket and jammed them in the lock. Pushing the door open, she was met by Sam and Dean.

"Hey," Dean greeted, kissing her lightly on the lips before turning to shift weapons from the scratched kitchen table to a heavy duffel bag.

"How was school?" Sam asked with a smile.

"Same as usual," she replied, raising an eyebrow as she realized the brothers were preparing for a hunt. "Have we got a gig?"

Dean faltered as he lifted the duffel bag. "Sort of," he answered, stepping closer to her. "You know, it's just a little something…" He paused, glancing down. "What happened to your neck?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in concern as he reached out to touch the dried pearls of blood.

"You're not changing the topic that easily," Beclyn scowled, brushing his hands away. "Why didn't you call me? I could have come home and packed." Stepping past the brothers, she grabbed her duffel bag and began placing weapons inside. "So what have we got – ghost, werewolf or demon?"

"Beclyn…" Sam started, hesitating as she turned to face him.

"I'm going to have to borrow some salt from your bag. I've barely got enough to do two windows," she continued, ignoring him.

"Dean, say something," Sam ordered, throwing a glance at his brother.

Dean stood forward, clearing his throat. "Beclyn, it would be easier if you stayed here."

Beclyn considered this for a moment before shaking her head. "No way, we should all go in as one team instead of going in separately. If we all attack at once, then-"

"You're not coming with us, Beclyn," Dean stated firmly, crossing his arms. "We've called Jason and he said it's cool for you to stay the night with them. We'll come get you in the morning, once the gig is done."

Beclyn froze, suddenly realizing what he was saying. "You're leaving me out?"

Sam stood forward. "It's only for tonight. This thing is dangerous and it attacks-"

"Shut it, Sam," Beclyn ordered, raising her hand. She focused her attention on Dean. "What gives you the right to exclude me?"

He shook his head. "Look, this thing is big and it'll take someone with a lot of muscle-"

"Oh, so this is a sexist thing now," Beclyn sneered, her temper rising. "This is a chance for you guys to go out and pretend you're heroes while protecting the chick. How incredibly mature."

"This isn't us side-lining you," Dean protested. "You don't know what you're up against and you've been out of the game too long to be ready for a full-on hunt…"

"The only reason I'm not out there killing things is because you stuck me in a school for '_research_'!" Beclyn yelled, jabbing a finger at Dean. "You pretend you're a better hunter than me, but I've done a lot more gigs than you and I handled some of the toughest stuff just fine before you came along!"

Dean's jaw tightened.

Beclyn threw her gaze to Sam. "Tell him he's being paranoid. You've seen what I can do. My name is enough to make paranormal creatures think twice about attacking."

He glanced away, not meeting her gaze.

"Sam?" she pressed, her voice hardening.

"It's too late," Dean told her. "We took a vote and it's two against one. You're sitting this one out."

xxx

Jason stared out the kitchen window, knowing his afternoon of peace and quiet was quickly coming to a close. He'd received a phone call from Dean earlier in the day, stating that it was urgent Beclyn stay with them for the night. As much as he would have loved to refuse, Jason had found it pointless trying to argue with Dean. The guy was a walking, talking mass of egotism and self-confidence – what he decided was what was going to happen, and until Jason found a way to undermine that self-centered perspective, he was stuck with whatever Dean said. It didn't seem to matter to Dean that Lamae was traumatized by that afternoon's events – which he had heard about from another teacher long after the incident had occurred. He was lucky the school had decided to keep the incident quiet in fear of attracting public attention.

"Are they here yet?" Lamae asked from the kitchen doorway.

Jason jumped, quickly turning to offer a smile. It was the first time she had spoken to him all afternoon. "They'll be here soon." He hoped Dean had forgotten.

A loud, chugging sound filled the driveway.

"They're here!" Lamae announced, rushing to the door.

Jason didn't bother trying to pull her back. Maybe Beclyn would be too tired to cause trouble. Glancing out the window, he realized the chances of her not stirring up trouble were slim, judging by the scowl on her face. At least she felt the same as him about these arrangements.

Forcing his most welcoming smile, Jason called, "Hey! Can you believe this weather?"

Dean hopped out of the driver's seat, far too smug for Jason's liking. "Yeah, looks like it might pour down in a few minutes. Good thing this gig's indoors. Salt lines only protect against ghosts if they stay put."

There he was, talking about ghosts again. Surely Lamae couldn't believe half the things they proclaimed.

"Sam!" Lamae greeted with a hug, grinning up at the tall figure.

Sam beamed down at her, hugging her back. "How have you been, Lamae?"

"There you are!" Dean announced, pulling Lamae into his grip.

She laughed in delight as he mussed her hair.

Jason's eye twitched. She hadn't offered a greeting to him when he'd arrived home, yet she ran to them as if they were old friends.

Beclyn climbed the steps to the front porch, her mood sulky as she slammed open the sliding glass door.

"Hey," Jason greeted.

"Hi," she replied, not at all enthusiastic.

_Nice to see you, too,_ he thought bitterly.

Lamae followed Beclyn up the stairs, tugging the brothers along behind her and excitedly exclaiming that she had baked muffins for them. She didn't remove her grip until all five of the group were in the kitchen.

As the girls disappeared into another room, Jason turned to the brothers.

"Look, ah… I heard about what happened to Beclyn today," he told them, hesitant about approaching the issue.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean answered. He shrugged with a grin. "I'm sure she'll get over it.

Jason gawked.

Sam smiled, running a hand through his hair. "It may seem harsh, but we decided it was for the best. Besides, it's only for one night and somewhere deep down she must understand that it's for her own safety."

Jason shook his head. "No, I'm talking about the guy who attacked her…"

Dean paused, his grin faltering. "Come again?"

"Beclyn was attacked?" Sam asked, suddenly very concerned.

Beclyn appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, Beclyn, you didn't tell us that someone attacked you," Dean started.

"_Dun-wanna-talk-about-it_," Beclyn snapped in reply, hurrying past him to go back to the car.

Dean turned to Jason. "What happened?"

"Oh, it's just-" Jason faltered as Lamae stepped into the room.

She moved to stand beside him, choosing to face the brothers instead of him.

He scratched his temple, choosing his words carefully. "Apparently one of the older students had taken a liking to her and she didn't return his feelings."

"And what?" Sam asked. "He just attacked her?"

Jason licked his lips, throwing worried glances at Lamae. "Well, he grabbed her by the wrist and she broke his arm…"

"That's not what happened," Lamae interrupted.

The brothers turned their attention to her.

"He had been asking her out all week but she didn't want to go out with him. She was walking through the hall and he grabbed her. She told him she wasn't interested so he took off his pants and tried to force himself on her."

Jason's eyes bulged. He stared at her, wondering if she was going to burst into tears. Instead, she stood firm, even going so far as to offer a slight smile. Where was the Lamae that freaked out at the slightest mention of nudity?

"He grabbed her by the throat and tried to strangle her, but instead, she grabbed his arm and broke it." Grinning, she said, "She handled it really well, I think."

Dean swallowed, his grin completely gone. "Uhuh."

Sam threw a worried gaze at his brother. "She didn't mention it to us when she came home."

Lamae frowned. "Oh, and I was wondering, who's Jamison?"

Both of the brothers froze.

"Why do you ask?" Sam replied, hesitant.

Lamae frowned, her tone softening. "She mentioned it afterward. She said something about Ryan not being as bad as Jamison or something."

"Jamison was a really, really bad guy…" Dean started, as if trying to explain a difficult issue with a child.

"It probably brought up old memories of him," Sam explained, not blinking. "He did the same thing to her a long time ago."

Dean threw a questioning glance at Sam.

"See?" Jason said with a nervous laugh, placing a hand on Lamae's shoulder. "Beclyn's used to getting out of these things."

Sam's gaze darkened. "Not that time. She didn't get away from Jamison."

Tension filled the room as realization dawned on Jason. From the way that Lamae's shoulder tensed, he was sure that she understood as well.

"Wait. What?" Dean suddenly interrupted, shaking his head. "No… No way, dude. That's… This is Beclyn we're talking about. She'd… She wouldn't… Besides, she would tell me."

Sam glanced away with a shrug. "It was a rough time for her. She told me not to tell you."

There was a pause before Dean turned towards the door.

"Dean!" Sam called, reaching after his brother.

"No, I'm talking to her about this. _Now_," Dean snapped, shoving his brother back.

Jason watched as Dean disappeared onto the porch.

His afternoon of peace and quiet was definitely over.

xxx

By the time Dean made it to the car, Beclyn was hissing and swearing at her duffel bag as she tried to wrench it from the back seat.

As soon as she saw Dean approaching, she said, "I've got it. It's just caught under all your stuff…"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, confronting her.

Beclyn let out an aggravated sigh. "Okay, so I broke the kid's arm. Who cares? It's not like I'm going to get punished by the school or-"

"I'm talking about Jamison," Dean interrupted, his heart hammering painfully in his chest.

_Tell me it's not true, that it's all just a joke. Just turn around and tell me…_

Beclyn tensed. "Oh, yeah. That."

Dean's stomach lurched. He swallowed, clenching his fists to keep them from shaking. "Is it true that he…" He took a moment to find the right words. "… did things to you?"

Another pause. Beclyn turned, her hands on her hips. "What can I say?" she said with a shrug. "The guy got further with me faster than you could."

"This isn't a joke, Beclyn," Dean hissed.

"Who cares?" she demanded. Letting out a long sigh, she shook her head. "Fine. I didn't tell you because it hurt like a bitch. Wanna know what's it's like to be raped by some guy with a porcupine for a condom? It's way up there in the pain scale."

Dean opened his mouth, but Beclyn raised a hand, silencing him.

"Maybe I didn't tell you because I was still coming to terms with it. Or better yet, maybe it was because I honestly thought he would be the death of me and I didn't want you to know how much that fucking scared me."

Grabbing her duffel bag, she gave it a hard wrench, pulling it free. Turning, she tossed it over her shoulder and sniffed with distaste. "So don't come to me trying to play the guilt card."

She began to walk away, but scowled as a hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.

"Look, Dean, I-"

Dean wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. He felt her heart hammering against his chest – not at all as calm as she had pretended to be.

"I'm not playing the guilt card," he whispered into her ear. "It just hurts to know that I couldn't protect you from that."

He felt her relax against him, her hand clutching his jacket.

"From now on I promise I'll protect you." He closed his eyes, resting his chin against the top of her head. She began to shake. He tightened his arms, comforting her. "You know it would kill me if something happened to you."

"Oh, yeah?" she suddenly snarled. She lunged away, catching him off guard as she turned to storm towards the house.

Dean blinked, shocked.

"You're doing a great job so far," she called sarcastically, shaking the duffel bag to emphasize her point. "Have fun on your hunt."

* * *

**And it took far too long to get this chapter up. I'm sort of half on hiatus, but I assure you that there are interesting plot points coming up. Besides the whole demon-side of this series has been put on hold just to get the fluffy things out of the way. The silver and yellow-eyed demon are feeling a bit lonely. Poor, little diddies. **

**How about we try something new. If I get over three reviews for this chapter, I will add a towel scene with one of our favourite boys next chapter. If I get over ten reviews, there will be a detailed sex scene. If you don't like the idea of either of those, just review anyway and pretend that you had no idea this little thing was running. **

**Agreed?**


	25. Update

**Wow. I have not posted in forever. I had no idea people were still reading this. O.O**

**I know I stopped posting suddenly because of family life and busy nights crammed with studying, so it has been a while and I have no idea who still sees my updates xD**

**How about this - if enough people give me a heads-up (either by review or message) about wanting me to finish the story, then I will.**

**I feel like I've been asleep for the last few years o.o**


	26. Chapter 25

**Deadly Secret**

**Bwah! How long has it been, huh? I'll tell you a funny story at the end to make up for it xD  
**

* * *

**Chapter 25**

The Impala tore down the lonely road, easily coasting at double the appointed speed limit. Monotonous, crackling music blasted from the radio, hurting Sam's ears as he stared at the passing farm scenery. Turning his head slightly, he reached forward and fast forwarded the tape to the next song. The moment he pulled away, his brother shot his hand to the rewind button, returning to the same crackly song.

"Dean, seriously?" Sam groaned with a sigh. "We've been listening to the same song for the past hour. You don't even _like_ this song."

Dean clenched the wheel, his jaw set in a tight grimace.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I get that you're angry at me, so let's talk." When Dean didn't reply, he stated, "Fine, I'll start. I'm sorry for not telling you about what happened to Beclyn."

A vein twitched on the side of his brother's temple.

"Come on, Dean. You can't ignore me for the rest of the trip. We've still got three hours of traveling ahead, and I don't think I can stand to hear this song one more time…"

Dean let out an exasperated sigh. "We should have brought Beclyn along."

"What?" Sam snapped. He paused, raising an eyebrow. "After you spent all that time convincing me that Beclyn wouldn't stand a chance against a ghost which hunts females for fun? You practically made a presentation on my laptop stating all the ways she could die if she came along!"

"I dunno, man…" Dean hissed, shaking his head. "You didn't see the way she looked at me – as if I was completely shunning her. I… I told her how I felt and she acted like she didn't care."

Sam froze, staring at his brother disbelievingly. "You told her that you loved her?"

He had to duck as Dean made a swipe at his head.

"I didn't say that," Dean seethed, his temper sharp. "How could you even think that? Beclyn is…" He faltered as if choosing his words very carefully. "You know what? I don't want to talk about it."

Sam smirked as he realized he had hit a nerve. "Hey, I see the way you look at her. We both knew she wouldn't like sitting out off of this hunt, but you defended her to the point of desperation…"

"Dude, just shut up," Dean retaliated, glaring at the straight road ahead.

"You can't ignore this, De-"

Dean turned the volume to maximum on the radio, making sure to rewind to the same crackly, annoying song.

It was going to be a long trip.

**OOO**

"… Not only does it provide a fantastic side pocket for your eating utensils, it also comes with a five month warranty which-"

_Click_.

"… I saw the DNA results, Lucy. I can't marry you. You're my sister."

"_No, Javanni! Love will keep us together! Being siblings means nothing to-"_

_Click_.

"… An amazing jump over ten monster trucks! No one has ever been this daring! To the side, we have almost two thousand spectators! One mistake and this could ruin this daredevil's career-"

Jason's eye twitched as he poised his red pen over one of the many assignments he still had to mark. His patience was beginning to wear thin. "Beclyn, keep to one channel or find something else to do."

_Click. _

"… _I just love the colours! Mixing gnarly green with vibrant orange was a fantastic idea for this kitchenette_-"

"Beclyn," he warned, his grip tightening on the pen. He turned to glower at her, but was instead met by her feet as she balanced her legs over the head of the couch. Her head was touching the floor, her arm stretched out in front as she clicked through the stations.

He had been careful and considerate after hearing the unfortunate events of her past. He had sympathised with her, knowing what it had been like for one of his college friends after she had been through an abusive relationship. He knew it could take years for someone to retrieve the broken pieces of their life and set themselves back onto a path of self-dignity. He had felt sorry for Beclyn, even going as far to offer a shoulder to cry on.

That was until she had eaten three servings of dinner, complained about there being no beer in the fridge, whined about not being able to set up a campfire in the backyard, throwing an encyclopaedia at Jason's head when he told her she couldn't set up salt rings around the doors and windows, and spent the last half hour doing everything in her power to push his patience to the last nerve. He felt babysitting for two five year old kids was by far easier than looking after her.

"At least sit up properly. You'll hurt your back," he scolded, focusing his concentration on the unmarked assignment.

_Click. _

"… And it comes with a new knife set for the first fifty callers! It's a perfect idea for a birthday gift or a housewarming party, or even a baby shower-"

"Beclyn!" Jason snarled, his patience finally reaching an abrupt end.

"What?" Beclyn snapped in retaliation. She dropped the remote, her face twisted in a scowl. "I'm bored. You don't have anything to do around here."

"Go ask Lamae if she needs help with anything."

Beclyn let out a groan. "She's just doing a boring assignment on CPR and wounds."

"Then ask her if she needs-" Jason faltered. "Hang on, that's the assignment I gave you!"

Rolling her eyes, Beclyn stated, "That's why she's doing it. Duh."

Letting out a hiss of annoyance, Jason rubbed his temples. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't fail you on the spot."

Beclyn lifted her head, a smirk forming at her lips. "Try to explain to me how a teacher like _you _would know that my sister did my assignment for me. I mean, to know something like that you'd have to be – I dunno - _romantically involved_, right?"

Jason grit his teeth. As much as he hated to admit it, she had a good point. He would have to pull her up on something else.

"You can stop calling Lamae your sister. You're not at school now," he told her firmly.

"What, am I getting too close for comfort?" Beclyn sneered, suddenly seeming more interested in being spiteful towards him than watching the television. "Just imagine if you and Lamae got hitched. We'd practically be _related_."

Jason sniffed. "What if you and Dean married?"

"Not happening," Beclyn answered snappily, her gaze morphing into a dark glare.

"Thank God," Jason murmured under his breath. "Just think of the children." That's all he needed, a kid-sized version of Beclyn.

"Don't you have guns or something?" Beclyn asked, stretching her arms along the floor.

Jason frowned. "Just one. A double barrel shotgun."

"Can I use it for-"

"No," Jason answered firmly.

Beclyn raised an eyebrow. "What – only the man of the house is allowed to touch a gun?."

Jason scowled. "Guns aren't for kids. We only keep one in case we're robbed."

"_Or if there's a zombie apocalypse_!" Lamae called from the next room.

"Not gonna happen!" Beclyn shouted back, rolling her eyes. Turning back to Jason, she mumbled, "This place is so boring."

"You should have brought a book or-" Jason started, but was cut off as Beclyn changed the channel.

"… You are the lucky winner of ten thousand dollars! Congratulations-"

He was going to have to lock up the double barrel shotgun, lest he tried to use it before the night was out.

* * *

**So I went to Japan earlier on in the year and my host mother couldn't speak much English. We both got drunk at the welcome ceremony for Australians, so we tottled home before she asked me if I wanted to 'Yuzu ofuro' (take a bath). I thought she was trying to say 'use bath', so I was like, "Yeah, that's cool!"She then walks away and comes back with two rotten-looking pieces of fruit and throws them into the bath before giving me a thumbs-up. Apparently 'yuzu' means fruit, so 'yuzu ofuro' is 'bathing with fruit'. Couldn't look at oranges the same way after that xD**

**Next chapter coming soon! (hahahahahahahahaha - when was the last time I said that?) **

**Remember, reviews make me smile.  
**


	27. Chapter 26

**So, when I promised myself I'd update more often it was obviously more of a 'of course I'll write more! ... if I can remember'. It's a wonder anyone is keeping up with the plot o.O**

**Warning: swearing, adult themes.**

* * *

**Deadly Secret**

**Chapter 26**

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Another clear, plastic box of lipgloss and mascara cluttered to the purple carpet as Valerie Shaine frantically patted her hand along the dusty, white shelf. She raised the other hand to her overly-glossed lips, chewing at the newly-acquired hundred dollar nail job.

"Where the fuck did I put it?" she groaned, glancing around the shoebox-sized bedroom. It was impossible for a pair of two-hundred dollar lace panties to disappear since she had left for school that morning. She had definitely remembered leaving it on the pink covers of her bed - something she always did the morning before a night of lusty, meaningless webcam sessions.

She froze suddenly, horrified for a moment as the bleep of an instant message sounded from her laptop.

The time on the expensive, Italian-designed alarm clock next to her bed only read five minutes past eight.

"That fucker better not be early," she hissed, falling onto the bed and opening the lid to her laptop. There was only so much she could do to keep a man's attention for half an hour, let alone an additional twenty-five minutes.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied the instant message flashing pink at the edge of her screen. The almost-naked display picture made Valerie roll her eyes in disgust. Her friend obviously didn't know the difference between a sexy shot and amateur porn. She usually blocked Fifi from contacting her any time outside of school hours, but she must have forgotten after the last bitch-fest about the half-brained cheerleading squad.

hornyprincessfifi says:

OMG u dere?

Valerie sniffed at the message, half-inclined to ignore it in case it was just another one of Fifi's crying fits about a guy who had left her for someone with more braincells and a bigger rack. Rolling her eyes, Valerie typed a reply into the message box, deciding to block and blame it on a faulty internet connection if her friend did become emotional.

sexyandhorny69 says:

wat the fuk do yu want fifi?

hornyprincessfifi says:

can u beleve wot happnd 2 ryan daniels?

Valerie suppressed an irritated groan. This was turning out to be another one of her crying fits after all.

sexyandhorny69 says:

y wud i care?

hornyprincessfifi says:

coz jones toteally allmost teared hiz arm off. lyk every1s tlkng aboat it on da wall

The 'wall' was a new group webpage Valerie and Fifi had created for Lamae Makra and the other students of Smallville High who couldn't fit into a size extra-small dress. Although many people referred to it as 'the wall', it was actually titled 'Save the Whales - release them back into the wild!'. There used to be a picture of Makra eating ice cream in the school cafeteria as the group image, but it had been mysteriously removed several days beforehand. Knowing Makra, she had probably begged some desperate, zit-covered nerd to hack into the page for her.

Opening a new webpage, Valerie quickly typed in the group's URL. Her eyes widened as masses of comments crammed the page wall.

HP_Forever (7:59:35 pm) said:

Ohemgee, is it true? Did Beclyn Jones really break his arm?

Trolling_Pro (8:00:11 pm) said:

Holy shizzz! The dood can't even protect himself from a gurl LOLZZZ

fangirls_UNITE (8:01:02 pm) said:

WE LUV YOU BECLYN JONES!

Lou-Lou78 (8:01:10 pm) said:

Beclyn is one feisty girl :) I like her

Em_the_strange (8:02:43 pm) said:

beclyn is psycho. WTF is her problem?

Gypsygal (8:02:52 pm) said:

Lamae has spunk, too! Did anyone else see the fighting match between her and her sister? P.S: Beclyn I could kiss you, but I won't. Lol.

fapfapfap (8:03:23) said:

am i the only 1 who wants 2 c jones and makra hav sexxx?

mysteryman666 (8:03:49) said:

You can break my arm anytime, Beclyn ;P

PennyPens (8:04:06) said:

I want a sister now ;( ;( ;(

HarrisonH (8:04:36) said:

And shes not even gettting expelld?

Geekygal4eva (8:05:21) said:

1-up for the geeks! WOOOOOOO!

Valerie skimmed through a selection of the older comments, gritting her teeth as she noticed most of the posts were in Jone's favour. With trembling fingers, Valerie tabbed back into the conversation with Fifi.

sexyandhorny69 says:

tell me evrythng yu no

RITE NOW!

* * *

**Short chapter. Much to do and too tired to do it. -sleep-**


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